


Echoes of You

by kittinoir



Series: Echoes of You [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, But this takes place a few months after those relationships have terminated, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt, Like they happened, Marichat, Memory Loss, Multiple Pov, Post Adrigami, Post Lukanette, Post Season 3, adrienette - Freeform, chat noir has to find his lady, get ready for some SUGAR, in this house we love and respect Alya Cesaire, lets pretend the miraculous magic prevents you from recognizing the holder, marinette gives up the miracle box, marinette remembers nothing about the miraculous, obviously, otherwise this would be a really short fic, salt? I don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 61,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24659185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittinoir/pseuds/kittinoir
Summary: In the day time, she's Marinette - a normal girl, with a normal life. A normal girl, with a normal life. A normal girl, with...
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Echoes of You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920250
Comments: 524
Kudos: 508





	1. A Normal Girl, With A Normal Life

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Отголоски тебя](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25422586) by [YourLady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourLady/pseuds/YourLady)



Marinette Dupain-Cheng blinked slowly as she woke to the chirping of birds on her balcony. She yawned, stretching as she rolled onto her side. She let her eyes drift closed again as she chased the remnants of a dream, but the more she pursued them, the harder they seemed to recall.

Mentally shrugging, Marinette let it fade.

“I can’t remember the last time I slept so well,” she murmured. Outside, the birds fell silent. A flutter of anticipation danced through her chest, but then, like her dream, it was gone, slipping through her fingers before she’d even really realized she’d been waiting for a response.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Marinette reached for her phone. It lit up as she tilted the screen. Three notifications were displayed just below the time. 6:47 am. She sat up as she read the time, then double checked it was am and not pm. Her alarm wasn’t due to go off for almost another 45 minutes. She frowned. Mornings were usually spent rushing, but she just…didn’t feel tired.

A small smile lit her features as she turned her attention to the notifications.

Reminder: Adrien photoshoot this afternoon at 2 pm  
Reminder: Four months to Adrien’s birthday  
Reminder: Let the kwamis out to play

Marinette frowned as she read the last notification, and read it again.

“…Kwa…mi…?” The word felt unfamiliar on her tongue. She selected the notification and opened it up. It was set every day for seven pm, right after dinner, but had no additional notes. She didn’t remember setting it. Maybe it was an inside joke between her and Alya, slang for taking a break and remembering to have a little fun. Maybe it was a reminder that constantly got buried under the Adrien reminders. She blushed as she read it again. It would hardly be the first time it happened.

Her thumb hovered over the delete button, but she hesitated. Let the kwamis out to play. Was being the class representative really so stressful she needed a constant reminder to relax?

Marinette saved the notification and locked the phone. Maybe it was.

She stretched one more time, and then slipped down the ladder to her room. She grinned to herself as she got out fresh towels and headed to the shower, letting day dreams of stumbling into Adrien run through her mind as she got ready to face the day.

***

Marinette had been surprised when she had woken early, but it was hard not to be a little stung when Alya did a double, then triple take as she arrived fifteen minutes before the first bell. Was it really so hard to believe she could be on time? She only lived across the street.

Of course, her teachers had been making that point for years.

“I must still be asleep,” Alya said with a grin, “Because I know I must be dreaming this.”

“Very funny,” Marinette said with a small giggle. “I dunno, I just woke up. Waiting for Nino?”

Alya blushed, averting her eyes. “Lila, actually. She agreed to do another interview for the Ladyblog.”

Frustration, confusion, anger, sorrow, loneliness. They all swirled through Marinette, coalescing into a storm that threatened to overwhelm her. She knew Lila lied, that she had threatened her, but this felt so much worse. She’d never believed Lila could do it, but today the possibility felt all too real, the outrage seemingly without just cause. After all, Marinette had started it…hadn’t she?

Marinette reached out blindly for the one thing she could control, could get an answer for. “The…Ladyblog…?”

“I know you don’t like her, Marinette, but I really hoped you’d be supportive,” Alya said, flicking the charm on her phone nervously. “News outlets are just starting to take me seriously and you know Nadja offered me that internship this summer. Lila’s really helped me out.”

The Ladyblog. Alya’s blog about… Marinette frowned, scouring her brain, but she couldn’t remember. The name rang a bell, but she was coming up empty otherwise.

“Marinette, please,” Alya begged, misinterpreting her frown. “Don’t make me choose.”

“I would never, Alya,” Marinette said, softening as the storm of conflicting emotions finally settled. “I just…Lila’s not what she seems. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Alya finally cracked a small smile. “You had the same reaction to Kagami at first, you know. Maybe you should give Lila a second chance. Stay for the interview.”

Marinette forced a small smile of her own. “Sorry, Al. Remember to double check your sources.”

Alya rolled her eyes but the smile stayed as Marinette slipped away. Her emotions swirled again, but she was ready for them and had an iron grasp on them this time. She shoved them down as she headed for the school and pulled out her phone. She opened the browser and was only a little surprised to find the blog locked in as her home page. A crease appeared between her brows. Why wouldn’t she remember something like…

The thought drifted away, incomplete as the page finished loading. Marinette could feel her fingers tingling as as stared at the picture on the front page of the blog. Alya had pinned it to the top of the page, but the date was several months old. The image depicted a young girl in a red and black suit, her arm stretched out as she seemed to fly across the night sky, the Eiffel Tower in the background.

_Ladybug to the rescue!_

Marinette became aware of her heart pounding painfully as she read the caption. Her knuckles had gone white around her phone. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t -

“Hey, Marinette!”

Marinette felt the phone slip through her fingers and clatter against the floor as she whipped around. “A-Adrien.”

Adrien frowned, those impossibly green eyes searching her face as he stooped and collected her phone, handing it back to her. “Are you…ok?”

“Uh, yeah,” Marinette said, taking the phone back. “I was just…reading the latest article on the Ladyblog. It kind of freaked me out?” Was that right? Should it freak her out? She held her breath as she watched for Adrien’s reaction.

He cracked her favourite smile, one she could tell was real and not because some photographer had demanded it. Marinette felt herself melting.

“I get it,” he said, reaching out to give her arm a squeeze. “Hawk Moth has been getting worse, and I know Ladybug and Chat Noir had a close call the other night, but they saved the day. They always do.”

Marinette thought she saw something else flash across his face, something like panic or pain, but it was gone before she could be sure. “Lucky for us,” she said, scrambling again for the right words. “It’s just…hard not to worry sometimes.”

“Hey.” The hand on her arm slid up to her shoulder. Marinette tried not to shiver at the warmth she could feel through her jacket. “They would never let anything happen to you, Marinette.”

“You’re right,” Marinette said, forcing a smile. “I’m worrying about nothing. Um. Are you excited about the photoshoot this afternoon?”

Adrien bit his lip as he dropped his hand. Marinette tried not to let her disappointment show as he rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously and leaned in as though they were co-conspiritors. “Would I be letting you down if I said no?”

“Letting me down?”

“I know you’re a fan,” he elaborated, “But…I don’t know, I guess I’d rather be here with you guys. Besides, between you and me, this latest collection isn’t the most exciting.”

“I could go with you,” Marinette blurted. She almost slapped a hand over her mouth, but she decided doing that would be the only thing worse than what she’d already said. “If that would make it better.”

“I don’t want you to miss class for me,” Adrien said. The disappointment in his voice almost broke her heart. “I’ll be fine.”

“I have study hall last period,” Marinette said, “So I wouldn’t really be missing anything, but if you’d rather I didn’t - ”

“No!” Adrien interrupted. “I’d love to have you there, Marinette. Are you…really sure? I won’t lie to you, it’s pretty boring.”

“An inside perspective on the industry would be amazing,” Marinette said, nearly bouncing. “I would just love you - IT! I would just love it.”

Adrien laughed, and Marinette wished she could have bottled the sound. “I’ll meet you out here at 2 pm then?”

“2 pm,” Marinette echoed, “Ok.”

“See you in class,” Adrien said with a wave. Marinette watched him disappear down the hall, her heart pounding. Had she been too pushy? Did she sound like a pyscho stalker? Did he think she liked him? Like LIKE liked him? She’d practically invited herself to his shoot; was her cover totally blown?

Marinette blinked, surprised by the familiarity of the feeling and the anxiety it brought with it. Sure, she wanted to tell Adrien on her own terms, when she finally felt it was the right time, but…why did her secret feel like life or death?

Taking a deep breath, Marinette fired off a quick text to Alya to update her on her success. She bit back a smile as she typed, the reality of the afternoon settling in. Did it count as a date if he was working?

Marinette turned to face the school, ready to face the day. It was already a win; nothing else mattered. She snapped open her purse and dropped her phone inside, but paused when she heard it crunch. She frowned, pulling the purse up to her face to peer inside.

A lone macaron sat in the bottom of the bag, broken into two pieces beneath her phone. Marinette frowned as she pulled out the pieces and examined them. The macaron was from her family’s bakery, but it wasn’t wrapped or contained in anything. One of the outer edges had begun to crumble, and Marinette felt her skin crawl, wondering how long it had been in there. She shivered once and tossed the stale dessert in a near by garbage bin, promising to double check her purse more often before bugs or mice found their way to the forgotten food.


	2. Simply the Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never noticed how much of Marinette's life is interwoven with the Miraculous XD

Marinette sprinted down the stairs two at a time, holding onto the railing to keep herself from pitching down them altogether. She’d stopped by the ladies room to make sure there was nothing stuck in her teeth or that her bangs weren’t doing that weird v-split thing and had lost track of the time trying to come up with things to talk about with Adrien.

By the time she checked her phone, she discovered her preparation had been for nothing; she was running late and would have to run to be on time, meaning she’d be flustered, sweaty, and messy by the time she showed up.

Except she wasn’t sweaty, or flustered. A little windswept, sure, but the short sprint didn’t seem to wear her out at all. Maybe all these months of being chronically late to everything had whipped her into better shape than she’d realized.

They’d done nothing at all for her reflexes, she realized suddenly as the toe of her shoe caught on the frame of the front door and pitched her face-first into the pavement.

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the sting of the scrapes she was sure to get on her hands, but just before she was sure to hit the ground, she felt hands grab her, using her momentum to pull her back up.

“You ok there, Marinette?”

Marinette slowly opened her eyes and found herself face to face with Adrien. A blush began to creep across her cheeks, but it didn’t get too far. Her name was practically synonymous with clumsiness; it wasn’t really a secret. Besides, after the mishap with the constipation prescription, it was getting harder and harder to be embarrassed. Although now that she thought about it, she couldn’t quite remember how that mix up had happened in the first place.

“Yeah, just clumsy,” Marinette said. She had to tilt her head to look up at him and suddenly realized he still had his arms around her, as though she might collapse like a house of cards if he let go. She was beginning to think she might. “Are we, um, ready to flow? Go! I mean, ready to go?”

Adrien laughed, finally releasing her. “Yeah, we are. Here comes the car now.”

Marinette tugged on her bangs as she followed Adrien to his car, hoping against hope her wild ride hadn’t messed them up too badly. She looked up to see Adrien waiting by the door, gesturing for her to slide in first. She bit her lip as she slipped inside as memories of the last time she’d been in the car came back. Adrien had said he was in love with another girl, nearly crushing her hopes altogether, except…for some reason she hadn’t quite given up on him. Besides, she couldn’t imagine any girl saying no to Adrien but none of the sites or blogs she followed had said he’d asked anyone out.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Marinette lurched in her seat as Adrien broke her reverie. “Um, just remembering the trip to the wax museum,” she said. She felt the blush come back stronger this time. She bit her lip, wishing she’d come up with anything else. It was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

“Oh, yeah.” Adrien slid down a little in his seat. “That was crazy. Remember when we thought Hawk Moth had shown up in the museum?”

“I…” Marinette blinked, searching her memories. She remembered Alya and Nino conspiring to leave them alone together, Manon’s embarrassing comments, and the conversation on the car ride home, but…

“Oh, I’m sorry, Marinette,” Adrien blurted, misreading her confusion. “I didn’t mean to… are you feeling any better since this morning?”

In truth, she hadn’t had time to worry about it. Things with Chloe had been tenser than usual; even Adrien had been cold toward her. It had unnerved Marinette. She hadn’t thought Adrien was cold to anyone, even people who maybe deserved it.

But Chloe had just…accepted it. She’d sat alone at the back of the class, forsaking her usual front row spot for solitude. Marinette might not have even noticed if it hadn’t been for the daggers everyone had been staring back at her. She’d tried asking Alya, but her friend had only said Chloe had finally taken it one step too far and left it at that after giving her a puzzled frown, as though she should have known.

Unease had crept through her, but it had drifted away just as quickly when the teacher called on her to answer the question on the board. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time Chloe had pushed the envelope. Marinette expected her father would have soothed the ruffled feathers by the next day.

“Kind of,” Marinette finally said. Could she tell him? Could she mention those intangible gaps in her memory, that elusive feeling of sheer…sorrow that seemed to haunt her whenever something seemed to slip through her fingers. “I think something’s wrong… I’m having trouble - ”

The car door opened abruptly, nearly dumping Marinette onto the sidewalk. She hadn’t realized she’d been leaning against the door - or that the car had come to a stop.

“You’re not Adrien.” The woman looking down at Marinette as she hung halfway out of the car look as if all she’d done for lunch that day was suck lemons. Marinette could feel her gaze burning holes in her skin, but instead of shrinking back like she wanted to, some inner strength drove her to meet the woman’s gaze head-on without flinching.

“I’m right here, Dominique,” Adrien said as he exited the car and came around to Marinette’s side. “This is my friend, Marinette. She’s with me today.”

Dominique sniffed as Marinette righted herself and stepped out of the car as well. “Very well. As long as she is not a distraction.”

Dominique turned without waiting for a response and started for the tall glass and metal building where the shoot was taking place. Marinette hid a giggle behind her hand as Adrien rolled his eyes at Dominique's back. She felt a rush of warmth as he winked at her; she’d never seen this side of him. It had never occurred to her that modelling might not be what he wanted to do or that it was something he didn’t enjoy.

“See you in a bit,” Adrien said when Dominique paused outside hair, makeup, wardrobe. “Dominique will take you to the set.” His green eyes briefly flicked to the stern assistant. “Make sure she get a front row seat? I’m sure as a Gabriel intern, my father would want to make sure she makes the most of this experience.”

Dominique’s demeanour changed almost instantly. “Intern? You never said - ”

“I was sure you were already aware,” Adrien cut in smoothly. “I mean, you seem to have everything so in hand.”

“I do,” Dominique said with a small cough. “I do. I knew she was coming, I just thought she’d be…older.”

Marinette had to turn her face and bite her lip to keep herself from straight up laughing. She stared at a spot on the floor, knowing if she risked a glance at Adrien’s face it would all be over.

“I’ll see you in a bit, Marinette,” she heard him say. “Make sure to take lots of notes.”

“I will,” she said, finally looking up. She could see laughter dancing in his eyes and struggled to keep her face a mask of calm. “Can’t wait to see the collection.”

Marinette covered a short laugh with a cough as Adrien disappeared and she followed Dominique to set. Adrien had lied for her - and he’d been surprisingly good at it. He had a devious side. Just when she thought she couldn't love him anymore, he turned around and proved her wrong.

“You may wait here,” Dominique said, indicating a chair near the photographers’ station. “If you need anything, please, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Thank you, Dominique,” Marinette said, draping her bag across the back of the chair. The assistant hurried off without so much as another word. Marinette pulled out the sketchbook she’d packed and sank into the chair as she took in the set, the tip of her pencil poised on the paper.

The set mimicked a beach, with actual sand spilled across the bottom of the backdrop and across the floor. The backdrop itself was printed with the image of a sunset on the ocean. Palm trees flanked the sides of the set, and a beach ball and beach chair were set up to the side as props.

Marinette swallowed hard as she alternately sketched and glanced around the room. Adrien had said the collection wasn’t exciting, but was that because it was simple - because it was swim wear? She wasn’t entirely sure where her confidence had come from, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t solid enough to withstand seeing her crush up close and personal without a shirt on.

But what if it was? What if the next three hours would be swim suits? Worse, what if he was modelling with someone else? Heat flashed across Marinette’s face; what if it was Lila? She couldn’t remember the girl bragging about something like that, but then, she wouldn’t unless she had some manufactured proof to go with it.

Marinette gripped her pencil so hard it almost snapped. She’d never thought her temper was particularly volatile, but she was finding it hard to keep it under control now. A small part of her shook at her own wrath, at how overwhelming it felt. What was it about this girl that made her this angry? Why? Betrayal. She felt betrayal. At first Marinette thought it was about her friends, how they chose to believe Lila over her, but she quickly realized it was about Lila herself, but _why_? The girl had never done anything other than what she’d always promised to do, so -

Before Marinette could follow the thought further, the lights above the set came to life, so bright they bathed the studio in manufactured heat. The various grips and lighters and prop handlers that had been milling about talking on headsets suddenly began to rush to their positions, coffee cups in hand.

An unexpected wave of loneliness swept over Marinette, at once cold and unfamiliar. Her sketch book began to slide off her lap, and she realized she’d unconsciously moved her hand to her purse. She saved her sketchbook, resettling it on her lap just as a door across the room opened and Adrien appeared with Dominique.

Marinette’s heart leapt as it always did when he entered a room, like the sun finally breaking through the clouds. His gaze briefly settled on her, and she felt herself grinning in response to the wink he sent her way. Something about it struck a chord of a familiarity, like they were co-conspiritors in on a joke together.

To her surprise, Adrien was not dressed in swimwear, as she’d feared, but in a three-piece suit. It looked immaculate on him, of course - what didn’t, she couldn’t help but think. The photographer must have decided to go for a juxtaposition between a casual set and formal attire. It would certainly stand out.

Despite Adrien’s warning that it would be boring, Marinette found it to be anything but. Watching Adrien work was amazing, but she found herself being sucked in by the photographer and seamstresses that were on hand. Adrien seemed to know what poses his father would prefer, but every so often the photographer would direct him or the seamstresses would point out a key detail in one of the garments. Marinette found herself analyzing the construction, the style, the technique more than she was fawning over the boy wearing them.

Adrien had just disappeared to change into yet another suit when a boom shook the building. Marinette fell to her hands and knees as her chair toppled. She glanced up and flung herself into a clumsy drive, swallowing a scream as a light fixture crashed to the floor right where she’d fallen. People around her were covering their heads and diving for cover, but she was surprised to find that most of them seemed rather calm. They huddled together, waiting for the shaking to subside, but otherwise their faces were set in lines of grim determination, not fear. Not like her.

Marinette looked up as a laugh echoed throughout the room. Nausea rolled through her stomach as she tried to make sense of what she saw, but she was beginning to wonder if that lighting fixture hadn’t whacked her on the head after all.

It was a girl, dressed in what Marinette could only describe as a ball gown that looked like a giant, lilac-coloured cloud, which she guessed was fitting because the girl was _floating in mid air in front of a jagged hole in the ceilin_ g. Marinette honestly couldn’t say what was more bizarre about her: her apparent disregard for gravity, or the baseball sized sewing needle in her hands.


	3. When Things Go Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gotta say, I hate creating villains, but I think this one turned out quite nicely.

_Akuma_.

The word flit around the ruined studio like a butterfly from flower to flower. Marinette could finally see fear beginning to bleed into the studio as people backed away from the girl. Marinette crawled behind the fallen lighting fixture, using it as cover as the girl descended into the room. The closer she got, the more details she could make out. Her skin, Marinette saw, was also a deep shade of purple, but her long pony-tail was stark white, as were her eyes.

She laughed as her bare feet touched the ground, swinging the needle around like a sword as she took them all in from the point of it.

“I am Scream-ripper,” she announced, swinging the needle up. Marinette felt her mind blank, totally still and silent as she took in the sheer size of the thing. “Where is Dominique Valencourt?”

The needle swung down again, stopping once it was pointed at the lady who had been manning the craft table. The woman squealed, backing up. “I don’t know! I don’t know!”

“Aw, too bad.” Scream-ripper lunged. Marinette threw a hand over her mouth as the needle pierced the woman’s chest, but for a moment nothing happened. No blood, no screams of agony, no nothing. Sream-ripper withdrew the needle and leapt after someone else, leaving the woman in her wake.

The violence of it shocked Marinette back into action. She twisted onto her hands and knees and crawled towards the woman from the crafts table. She was still sprawled behind the over turned table, tugging at her t-shirt where the needle had gone through.

“Are you ok?” Marinette whispered as she reached the woman.

She shook her head, curly red-hair flying. “Something’s wrong! I can’t - I can’t - ”

Marinette frowned. As she watched, the woman’s movements became less frantic, her limbs stiffer as she felt her abdomen. “What is it,” Marinette asked, reaching out. “How can I help?”

“You…can’t…” Marinette recoiled as her fingers touched the woman’s bare arm; it was hard and cold to the touch. “Only…Ladybug…”

Marinette could only watch in horror as the woman finally stilled. It seemed an uncomfortable position, leaning back with only one hand behind her for support, but she didn’t move again. Her brown eyes stared at nothing. The sun shone through the ragged hole in the ceiling, glinting off her skin.

No, not skin, Marinette realized as she touched the woman’s cheek. Porcelain. Real porcelain. That thing, that girl, had turned this woman into…

“A mannequin.”

The words slipped out unbidden, a horrible truth Marinette couldn’t unrealize.

“Dominique!”

Marinette whipped around, scrambling backwards as that girl, Scream-ripper, made another circuit of the room. Several more people had found themselves on the wrong end of the needle. She counted at least seven pairs of unseeing eyes.

“You.” Marinette looked up to find Scream-rippers’ needle levelled at her own chest. “Where. Is. Dominique?”

“I…I don’t know,” Marinette said as she desperately felt around for something to defend herself with. “I haven’t seen her since the shoot began.”

“Yes, that would be about the time she fired me,” Scream-ripper hissed. “Too bad. So sad.”

Scream-ripper abruptly leaned back, angling her needle in. She lunged. Just before the needle would have pierced her, Marinette rolled to the side, throwing herself over the table as Scream-ripper sailed by her. The needle glanced off the floor, sending up sparks, but Marinette was already running.

Scream-ripper howled behind Marinette as she sprinted back towards her toppled chair and the purse she’d left behind. If she could just reach her phone, she could call for help. She risked a glance behind her to gauge the monster’s progress. It turned out to be a mistake.

No sooner had she looked than Marinette felt her toe catch on something for the second time that day. This time Adrien wasn’t there to save her. She sprawled across the floor of the studio, some loose sand barely breaking her fall and grinding painfully under her hands.

A lightbulb went off, and Marinette grabbed a handful of sand as she flipped over. Scream-ripper had risen into the air once again, apparently taking Marinette’s avoidance of her initial attack as a personal failing.

Marinette bit her lip, pushing herself closer to her purse by her heels as Scream-ripper advanced on her. Her violet eyes blazed as she bore down on Marinette.

1…2…3… Marinette waited until the last possible moment, then threw her fistful of sand as Scream-ripper prepared to lunge again.

Marinette staggered as she climbed to her feet. Scream-ripped shrieked behind her, clawing at her face. “I will _end_ you!”

Marinette felt more than she saw Scream-ripper take a wild swing at her exposed back. There was no avoiding it this time. Her luck had finally run out.

_Clang!_

“Attacking someone who’s unarmed?” someone said. “Tsk tsk. Not very sportsmanlike.”

Marinette stumbled to a stop, snatching up her purse as she spun back around. She nearly collapsed at the sight of the boy in black standing between her and the monster, a metal baton held at Scream-rippers chest like a sword. She met a pair of glowing green eyes that sent tingles rocketing over her skin as the boy glanced back at her. Her blood rushed in her ears, and she wondered if he could hear her heart pounding from where he was standing. From the way the black ears on top of his head twitched and he grinned at her, she had a sneaking suspicion he could.

“Sorry I’m late,” the boy said before turning back towards Scream-ripper. “But I came as fast as I could. Pretty sure I beat my purr-sonal best.”

Marinette frowned as warmth and joy and…and… _familiarity_ crept through her chest. “Do I…know you?”

The boy looked back at her again as he advanced on the monster. She thought he looked confused, but his expression suddenly cleared, as though catching on.

“Find a place to hide,” the boy said as he avoided a strike from Scream-ripper. “Ladybug will be here soon. She’ll fix everything.”

 _Deja vu_. The feeling of it swept over Marinette as she crouched back behind the fallen lighting fixture and watched the cat-boy fight the monster. Like she’d seen this, or dreamed this, before.

 _‘Do I know you?_ ’

She was sure she didn’t. After all, she didn’t think she’d ever forget someone like that. But more important was the screaming feeling that she _should_.

She watched the boy fight, watched him dance across the room with Scream-ripper, the two of them thrusting and parrying and and dodging. The boy fired off cat-themed quip after quip, his rakish smile never faltering. An earlier conversation drifted back to her.

_‘Ladybug and Chat Noir had a close call…they would never let anything happen to you.’_

Then this boy must be… “Chat Noir?”

One ear flicked back towards her, as though he’d somehow heard her speak over the clash of the needle against his baton. His suit did remind her of that girl from the picture on Alya’s blog, and he seemed dead-set on keeping Scream-ripper from turning anyone else into a creepy statue.

Marinette made herself focus on her breathing, on relaxing her fingers, which had gone white and stiff wrapped tightly around a metal pole on the lighting fixture. She didn’t know when it happened, but her terror had burned away, supplanted by a burning desire to _do_ something.

But…no, that wasn’t right. Dizziness swept her as war raged between her instincts. She was always running away, from everything. Why was she suddenly, desperately afraid to leave this boy to fight Scream-ripper on his own?

“Starting the party without me? Now _that’s_ a faux pas!”

Everyone froze, even Scream-ripper, as the voice echoed through out the room. Chat Noir took advantage of the opening to land a kick on the monster that sent her flying across the room, her needle clattering to the ground.

“You’re timing is impeccable, as always, m’la…”

Chat Noir trailed off as he stared the girl that had appeared on the edge of the jagged hole Scream-ripper had left in the ceiling. There was no mistaking the red and black suit, but there was something about her, something different from the photograph on Alya’s blog. Her hair, though still jet black, tumbled down around her shoulders. A single red ribbon held it back from her face like a hair band, the loose ends twisting through the loose waves.

The suit, too, seemed different. Swaths of black covered her arms and legs like gloves and boots, leaving just the torso red and spotted. Still, there was no missing the ladybug motif. The longer she looked, the more sure Marinette was: this was Ladybug.

A shout from Scream-ripper thrust Marinette painfully back into the present. Her heart leapt as the monster came dangerously close to nicking Chat Noir with the point of her needle. Even so, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from his partner as she swung down into the fray, his ears straight back and flat.

Marinette could only catch snippets of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s conversation as they pressed Scream-ripper back.

“…who you think you are…anything happened to her…” Chat Noir’s eyes flashed as he attacked, fiercer than before.

“…what you’re talking about…” Ladybug grunted, stumbling out of the way of Scream-rippers needle.

“…not her! You…Ladybug!”

“…my choice…with it, Kitty.”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT.”

Marinette flinched as Chat Noir’s voice ricocheted around the room. Even Ladybug seemed paler. She lowered her voice as she leaned into her partner, her face hard. Chat Noir stepped away from her, leaping to Scream-rippers other side, apparently choosing to fight the monster separately. Ladybug seemed content to let Chat Noir choose, but it quickly became apparent that Ladybug needed his help more than he needed hers.

Scream-ripper kicked out abruptly, sending Ladybug flying. Marinette ducked as the super heroine sailed by her, suddenly realizing how much closer the fight had come to her hiding spot. Chat Noir took advantage of the move, but he was more reckless than before. In a strike too quick to see, Scream-ripper hit Chat Noir’s baton with a clang that made Marinette’s ears hurt and sent his only weapon skittering away across the mannequin strewn floor, leaving an opening so wide you could drive a truck through it.

Marinette didn’t think; she just leapt.

It didn’t hurt like she’d expected it would when the needle tore through her left shoulder and across her back. It felt like ice, like the beginning of a wound that never started to hurt. The porcelain spider-webbing from the mark, however, was a different story. It didn’t hurt, but it tickled as it rapidly spilled across her skin, and then it didn’t feel like anything at all.

“Marinette? Marinette!” Chat Noir’s face was right in front of her, panic filling those beautiful green eyes. “No! I…I promised I’d… I promised…!”

“I had to…stop her,” Marinette said. Her lips didn’t seem to want to work. “Ladybug needs you…to win.”

For a moment his face hardened, and Marinette thought he might refuse to work with his partner, but then he gave her a single nod. “I’ll save you,” he swore, helping her sit down.

“I…know,” she managed, but it was too hard to say anything else. Her hands rested uselessly in her lap. Her head tilted back until it rested against a the light fixture and stilled. Marinette stared straight ahead, seeing nothing.


	4. The Power of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all your comments! I love to read them <3 Hopefully this chapter from Chat Noirs' perspective answers a few burning questions - and leaves you with a few new ones ;) I'd love to hear your guesses!

Chat Noir was seeing red, and not in the way he usually enjoyed.

The new Bug, whoever she was, was not his lady. That much he was sure of. She looked enough like her, acted enough like her, that the average person might not notice through the haze of Miraculous magic. The above average person, like Alya, someone who was obsessed with her, might square it away to an upgrade, new powers and new potential.

But someone who knew her, who was in love with her, would know when they were looking at a different person. He’d always assumed that, despite the fact that his kwami was the literal god of destruction and the symbol of bad luck, if he were fortunate enough to stumble across his lady in his civilian life, he’d recognize her.

Now all he was sure of was that he’d know when he was looking at an imposter.

The problem was, as he turned away from Marinette’s glassy eyes and back to the fight, he wasn’t sure what _was_ there. Another sentimonster? Someone who’d stolen his lady’s Miraculous? An illusion? This new Bug had told him to ‘deal with it’, but the only conclusions he could draw were bad ones.

Across the room the Bug had climbed back to her feet and was squaring off against Scream-ripper once again. He winced. Everything she did, from the way she moved to the way she avoided attacks instead of turning them to her advantage, was different from his lady. It was painful to watch.

But Marinette had seemed to trust this new Ladybug. He glanced over his shoulder at her statue, trust frozen in her face. He’d promised they’d protect her. He’d failed her once. He wouldn’t fail her again.

Chat Noir tore across the room, snatching his baton up along the way. The akuma must have heard him coming because she ducked under Ladybug’s attack and used her own momentum to swing around, engaging him once again.

“Pretty cowardly,” Scream-ripper hissed as she parried his thrust, “Letting that poor girl take that hit for you. Not so funny anymore, is it?”

Chat Noir snarled as he pressed his attack. “We’ll see who has the last laugh.”

“Hah!” Ladybug leapt onto the monsters’ back, wrapping her yo-yo around the akuma’s neck like a bridle. The distraction was enough for Chat Noir to disarm her, and the needle sailed through the air, the cool metal flashing in the sun. He had to admit whoever this new Bug was, she did seem to be on his side, but that didn’t mean anything. For all he knew this girl was more interested in the fame than the good of all. He’d known people like that before.

“Any…suggestions?” Ladybug gasped as Scream-ripper desperately tried to buck off the heroine.

“Might be a good time for your Lucky Charm,” Chat Noir said grudgingly. He couldn’t get to the bottom of this, couldn’t keep his promise to Marinette, until the akuma was purified. “Throw the yo-yo; I’ll keep her busy.”

Ladybug let herself be thrown from Scream-rippers back the next time she bucked. Chat Noir used the distraction to sweep the akuma’s feet out from under her, but she recovered faster than he’d hoped she would. Worse, she now hovered a few inches above the ground, advancing on him. The same trick wouldn’t work twice.

“All I want is Dominique,” Scream-ripper wailed as she held out her palm. Her needle came flying back across the room, smacking into her palm like it was the world’s strongest magnet. “And justice.”

“Justice and revenge aren’t the same thing,” Chat Noir said as he engaged the monster again.

Scream-ripper seemed to consider that. “I could settle for revenge.”

“Not today you don’t! Chat Noir, duck!”

Chat Noir dropped to the floor, rolling out of the way. Three red and black spotted pins sailed over his head, piercing Scream-ripper through her clothes and staking her to the wall behind her. She shrieked with the indignity, but her lightning quick attacks were finally halted.

“Any idea where the akuma’s hiding?” Ladybug asked, coming up behind him as she watched Scream-ripper thrash against the wall.

“One or two,” he said as he glanced over the akuma. The obvious choice was the needle, but she hadn’t seemed to care too much whenever she lost it. No, his guess was the white plastic name-badge pinned to the top of her dress, the only thing that hadn’t morphed when she’d been akumatized. “Cataclysm!”

Chat Noir pressed a single finger to the cool plastic.

Sure enough, a purple butterfly flitted away as the tag disintegrated. Ladybug recoiled automatically before swinging her yo-yo out to capture it, and Chat Noir felt another deep stab of pain. His lady had never shied away from the akuma’s. In fact, he liked to think she saw the beauty, the innocence in them, that she chose to see another creature abused by Hawk Moth that needed her help instead of blaming them for whatever chaos they helped create.

“Begone, evil-doer!” Chat Noir winced at the yo-yo snapped out. He never thought he’d miss the phrase ‘de-evilize’. He’d never thought he’d have the opportunity.

He watched the purified butterfly drift up towards the open sky and disappear through the hole in the ceiling. “Bye bye…little butterfly…”

“Now what?” Ladybug said, glancing around at all the destruction. “How do I summon the magical swarm to fix all this?”

“I’ll tell you,” Chat Noir said, fixing the girl with a dangerous glare, “But first you’re going to tell me a few things.” He hoped whoever she was, she didn’t know how her yo-yo worked; that the answers were at the tips of her fingers. She could evade him, figure it out, and disappear like smoke in the wind before he could pry answers from her.

Oh, she’d be back. He was fairly certain the next time an akuma reared its head, she’d appear.

But the time until then would be sheer agony. And if his lady was in danger, he needed to know - _now_.

The new Bug giggled nervously. “We don’t have that kind of time,” she said, fingering an earring nervously. They were already down to four spots. “You know the rules.”

“Don’t talk to me about rules,” Chat Noir snapped. “I have always followed them, and I am always the victim of them. Now it’s time for answers.”

“Don’t blame the girl,” a voice said from the shadows. “It’s not her fault.”

Chat Noir spun to face the figure coming towards them from the rubble. He couldn’t see their face hidden behind a finely crafted Venetian mask and cowl, but something about them struck a familiar chord. He suddenly wished he’d saved his cataclysm, but settled for brandishing his baton, making sure it stayed between him and the stranger.

The baton wavered, however, when he saw what the stranger was holding.

“How did you get that?”

The boy adjusted the Miracle Box against his hip. It looked different than the last time he’d seen it, but there was no mistaking what it was. Golden, delicate scroll-work filigreed the sides of the grey wooden box. It reminded him a little of a music box.

The man raised a brow. “It was surrendered to me.”

“It was…” Chat Noir blinked. “What? It - what?”

Ice splintered through his veins until it felt like he was choking on it. He swore he felt his heart still, wrapped in a frozen fist. He wondered briefly it would ever beat again.

“He is so not taking this well,” the new Bug said, squinting at him.

Blue. Her eyes were blue, but wrong, too pale behind the mask. Worse, they were empty of the things he loved the most; the intelligence, the kindness, the cleverness. She looked enough like his lady that she could be the ghost of her, a reminder of what he’d lost.

“Why?” He couldn’t let his knees buckle. Not here. Not now. Not in front of these…these strangers.

“I can’t tell you,” the new guardian said. He raised a hand as though he might comfort him, then dropped it. “It was one of her conditions.”

“Her…conditions?”

“I don’t have the time to explain right now,” the guardian said evenly. “But your lady left you a message. She said that if there were any other way, she would have taken it, and…and that if love were enough, she’d still be here.”

Agony tore through the ice, ripping Chat Noir to shreds. It burned through him, destroying everything in its path. This…this was truly cataclysmic. His world, his everything, was ending. No, it had already ended. This new guardian, this new Ladybug, were simply here to deliver the news, and possibly collect his Miraculous.

“I…I gotta go,” the Bug said, glancing between him and the guardian. “Or this’ll all be over before we really get started.”

“Go,” the guardian said. “Don’t forget the cure. It’ll work wherever you are.”

She left without another word, swinging through the hole in the ceiling, the three pins in her hand.

“We don’t have time,” the guardian said before Chat Noir could strangle the answers out of him. The guardian slipped back as though sensing the pending violence. “We’ll meet again, Chat Noir.”

“Don’t.” Chat Noir’s voice broke on the word as light erupted overhead, the miracle cure released. “Don’t do this to me.”

“I have no choice,” the guardian said. “It’s already done. We’ll meet again. We will talk then.”

Ladybugs swarmed through the hole, swirling around Scream-rippers victims. The destruction disappeared. The hole was repaired.

Chat Noir lunged for the guardian as he moved, but he slipped through his claws like water. He blinked, and just as suddenly as he had appeared, the guardian vanished, smoke on the wind - just like his lady.

“Chat…Noir?”

Chat Noir turned and came face to face with Marinette. His friend blinked, rubbing her eyes as though she’d just awoken from a deep sleep. She frowned as she peered up at him, her expression quickly shifting to alarm.

“Are you - ”

“I’m glad you’re safe,” he got out woodenly. The sound of his Miraculous grounded him, reminding him where he was, that he was seconds from detransforming in a room full of co-workers. “I have to…I have to go.”

He left before she could try to stop him, before he let the transformation dissolve and he fell into her arms, letting her comfort him the way he knew she would comfort any friend who needed it. He would cry before the day was over, but not yet. Not here. Not to Marinette.

He barely made it to the roof before the green light enveloped him and Plagg burst forth.

Plagg immediately exploded. “WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS.”

“Plagg.”

“I WILL CATACLYSM EVERYTHING SHE LOVES.”

“Plagg.”

“THE NEW GUARDIAN BE DAMNED.”

“ _Plagg_.”

The tiny black kwami came to an abrupt stop in front of Adrien, but he was vibrating with rage. “I swear, Adrien -”

“I’m going to find her.”

This time Plagg actually stilled. “What?”

“I’m going to find her,” Adrien repeated. He gazed out over the city as though he could locate her blind by his will alone.

“But the guardian - ”

“Doesn’t know my lady like I do.” Adrien gently took his kwami in his palm, fishing out a piece of cheese. “You heard what the guardian said: if there was any other choice, she would have made it. She has a plan”

“She had a plan,” Plagg said around mouthfuls of camembert. “Now she doesn’t remember she had a plan, or that she even needed one.”

“Now it’s my turn,” Adrien said. “I wanted to know the secrets. I wanted more responsibility. Now I have it, and the stakes couldn’t possibly be higher. I won’t let her down. Don’t you see? She needs me to remind her what she’s forgotten.”

“Seems like pure speculation to me,” Plagg said, swallowing his last bite of cheese. “Not to mention a lot of work.”

“I’ll find her,” Adrien swore, straightening as Plagg drifted back off his hand. “Even if I have to go through Hawk Moth himself to do it.”


	5. Up To The Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We stan Alya Cesaire

The photoshoot was over after that, and for once, Marinette couldn’t say she was upset the time was cut short.

To her surprise, most of the staff seemed…annoyed that they weren’t to continue. She watched them pack up, grumbling about the lost hours and messed up schedules and spoiled models.

“Come with me.”

Marinette jumped, nearly knocking over an irritated grip. Dominique raised a brow. She looked remarkably unflustered for someone who’d been being hunted down by a monster intent on shish-kabobing her to death.

“The shoot - ”

“Cancelled,” Dominique barked as she turned on her heel. Marinette scrambled to keep up, snatching her bag and sketch book off her chair. “An artists constitution is a delicate one. Adrien finds he is unable to continue under these conditions.”

Marinette’s heart leapt. Adrien. She hadn’t even thought about him during the attack. She hadn’t seen where Scream-ripper had come from; what if she’d run him through on her way to the set? Feelings of failure swirled through her; she hadn’t been able to protect him. She hadn’t been able to protect _anyone_.

But…no… What was she supposed to have done? She did everything she could; there was no way someone like her could have done anything. Besides, she remembered with a shudder, she’d done what she’d had to. She’d given Chat Noir a second chance. Apparently it had paid off.

To her surprise, Dominique lead Marinette straight out of the building to the car. Adrien, she saw, was already inside, staring out his window. Dominique spun on her heel without waiting for so much as a ‘thank you' and Marinette slid in quietly, pulling the door closed behind her. Suddenly the comments she’d heard about spoiled models made a lot more sense, and she scowled. Anyone who knew Adrien would know he wouldn’t just blow off work if it wasn’t serious, even if, as she was learning, it wasn’t something he was truly passionate about.

“You ok?” Marinette asked quietly. She suddenly realized she didn’t know if her question was rude or not, but she also discovered she didn’t really care. Right then it didn’t matter that this boy held her heart in his hands, whether he knew it or not; no one should have to hurt alone.

“Yeah,” Adrien said, barely glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah. Just…that was intense. I figured everyone could use some time to recover, myself included. Juliette was a talented seamstress.”

“Juliette?”

“The girl who got akumatized,” Adrien said, finally looking at her. “I don’t know what Dominique did, but I’m going to try to speak to my father about it. Juliette’s only been working for our label for a couple of months, but she was skilled and passionate - kind of like you, actually. I think she deserves another shot.”

 _Akumatized…?_ Marinette bit her lip as she probed the emptiness that was becoming more and more familiar. She didn’t know what it was, exactly, but she got the sense she was barely skimming the surface of a next to bottomless lake.

“I…I don’t know what that- ”

A rocking guitar riff Marinette recognized from Jagged Stone’s latest single ripped through the car, cutting her off. Adrien winced.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling out his phone. “My father. I have to take this.”

“I understand,” Marinette said. After all, he was his boss, too.

Unfortunately, the car pulled up outside the bakery minutes later. Adrien was still on the phone. From what she could gather, Gabriel Agreste seemed more concerned about the thousands of dollars going to waste from the shoot being cut short than he did about the attack itself.

Adrien waved to her as she slid out of the back seat. A blank mask had settled over his features, and just for a second, a heartbeat really, he looked like someone else, someone she didn’t know. A stranger. The boy she loved was gone.

Marinette shut the door, but slid quickly up to the drivers side as inspiration struck. She knocked on the window, her hand acting before her brain caught up. She blanched as Adrien’s bodyguard rolled down the window but didn’t falter.

“Wait, please,” she said, “Just for a minute. I have something for Adrien. And - and for you! If you just wait, please, just for a second.”

The bodyguard didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no. Marinette took that as a positive and turned to dash into the bakery.

“Marinette?”

Sabine Dupain-Cheng paused mid-transaction as her daughter came tearing into the bakery, very nearly knocking over not one, not two, but three customers as she did.

“Hi mom!” Marinette said as she tore open a bag and began shovelling pastries inside. “I’m home, the shoot was great, I just need a sec.” Blueberry muffin. Apricot scone. Chocolate croissant. She grabbed a smaller bag and shovelled three or four more pastries into it before dashing back outside. She handed the smaller bag to the bodyguard. The eager smile was small, but she didn’t think she was imagining it. He dug in right away, a silent but loud and clear sign that he would wait to leave while she conducted her business.

Biting her lip, Marinette tugged open the back door one more time. Adrien turned, eyes wide, still on the phone.

“As a thank you,” Marinette whispered. She placed the bag on the seat. Adrien softened and smiled.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, but then his father reeled him back in. She waved and shut the door, waiting and watching as the car pulled away.

Marinette barely saw the bakery as she headed back inside and up to their apartment, to her room, and up to her balcony.

The sun was just beginning to set over the city, glinting off the glass and stone, but it was completely lost on her. How had a day that had started so wonderfully turned into such a nightmare? The…akuma was burned into her memory, picking at Marinette’s focus. Every thought turned back to the attack.

Scream-ripper hadn’t been working on her own, obviously. But who… Hawk Moth. That was what Adrien had said that morning; that Hawk Moth was becoming more volatile. But how? What could have twisted that woman’s body that way? She shuddered; what could have turned her to stone?

Marinette jumped as her own phone rang, the Clara Nightengale verse letting her know Alya would be on the other end. “Hello?”

“Tell. Me. EVERYTHING!”

Marinette frowned. “I…what?”

“You were there, girl!” Alya said almost too fast for Marinette to understand. “I saw it on the news! New akuma! What was it? Did you get a picture? A video? DID LADYBUG RESCUE YOU?”

“Alya, calm down,” Marinette said as panic threatened to overwhelm her. “I don’t know, I…”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Alya demanded. “Didn’t you see it?”

“I…I…”

“Are you…ok, girl?” Alya asked, suddenly serious. “Did you get hurt while you were there?”

And just like that, Marinette found herself choking back tears. “Something’s wrong, Alya,” Marinette got out. “There’s all these…these gaps, and things I can’t remember, and I don’t…I don’t know what to do. I think I need help.”

“I’m on my way, Marinette,” Alya said. “Do you want me to grab anyone else on the way? Rose? Juleka?”

“No, no,” Marinette said. “I just don’t know….I don’t know…”

“It’s ok,” Alya said. Marinette could hear her pulling on a jacket through the phone. “Be there in 10, ok?”

Marinette bit her lip. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, girl,” Alya said. She hung up, and Marinette stared down at her phone, suddenly wondering if she wasn’t over-reacting. Was she really forgetting things, or had she just been so busy with her own escapades she’d missed the obvious?

Marinette climbed back down her ladder and made her way to her desk, pushing aside a stale plate of half-eaten cookies before she sat down. Like her phone, the webpage automatically loaded the Ladyblog. That, more than anything, assured Marinette this wasn’t something she was dreaming. It was real.

She was still scrolling through the Ladyblog when Alya burst in seven minutes later with pastries.

“I came as fast as I could,” Alya panted, dropping onto the chaise and patting the empty end. “What’s going on, girl? Was it…” Alya dropped her voice to a whisper, “Was it the akuma?”

Marinette joined Alya on the end of her chaise, crossing her legs and clutching a pillow to herself. “Yes, but…no. It’s been…well, everything, just…”

“Ok,” Alya said slowly, “Everything how? On the phone you mentioned…I think gaps…?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said as a blush fought its’ way onto her cheeks. “This is going to sound so stupid, but I think there are gaps…in my memory.”

Alya frowned. Marinette recognized her reporter face. “Random memories? Like people, or events? Homework, or friends? You remember that you’re a total goner for Adrien, right? Because you, like, just started managing coherent conversations with him.”

“Yes, I remember that,” Marinette said. Despite it all, she giggled. “I don’t think I could ever forget that. But…I don’t know. I don’t usually realize what I’ve forgotten until someone’s talking about something like I should know it.”

“Ok,” Alya said. She’d pulled out a notebook and was tapping her pen on her chin. “Do you have any specific examples?”

“Well…yeah, I…” Marinette dredged up her memories of the past twelve hours. “Like this morning when you said you had an interview for the Ladyblog. I knew about it, but I didn’t. I remembered you want to be a journalist and had been working on this project, but I couldn’t remember what the blog was about, except it was the home page on my phone and my computer, so obviously I’ve read it.

“And then this morning, Adrien said something about Ladybug and Chat Noir and Hawk Moth, and…Alya, I had no idea who they were.”

Alya stared at her, as though waiting for clarification. “Wait, like…nothing?”

Marinette shook her head. “None at all.”

“O-ok,” Alya said, jotting down her notes. “Anything else?”

“The… akuna?…attack today,” Marinette said, bracing herself against the terrifying memories.

“The akuma,” Alya corrected. She raised a brow as though she wasn’t completely sure Marinette wasn’t just playing a prank, but the other girl just shrugged.

“I had no idea what it was, what it could do.”

“That’s pretty typical,” Alya said cautiously. “Every one is different with different powers.”

“I didn’t know that,” Marinette said quietly, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. “I don’t know where they come from, or how they’re made.”

“Well, it seems to me,” Alya said slowly, “That the things you have trouble remembering have to do with the Miraculous.”

A chill ran down Marinette’s spine, a silent warning. “The what?”

“The…Miraculous,” Alya repeated. “Oh, my god. How many heroes are there?”

“I don’t know,” Marinette said, “I guess two? Ladybug and Chat Noir?”

“How did they get their powers?”

“Sleight of…hand, maybe…?”

Alya was practically vibrating. “What is Hawk Moth after?”

“I don’t know, Alya!” Marinette said, clenching her hands to keep her panic under control. “I don’t know what he wants, or who he is, or why he’s doing all this!”

Alya reached over and squeezed Marinette’s hands a silent apology. “It’s ok, Marinette, it’s ok. I have a theory.”

Marinette wasn’t sure how someone could derive a theory from all the crazy things she’d already said, but she let Alya plow ahead, desperate for any explanation, even a wrong one.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir are Paris’s protectors,” Alya began, “But sometimes they need help. They get their powers from their Miraculous, a magic piece of jewellery guarded by an immortal being. There are a few pieces of this jewellery. When Ladybug and Chat Noir need help, they ask a select few people to wear a Miraculous and help them defeat an akuma.”

“Isn’t that…dangerous?” Marinette asked.

“Not that I know of,” Alya said. “The Miraculous protect the wearer, but once the one time power is used, they have five minutes until the transformation exhausts itself and they transform back into their civilian self.”

“Ok…” Marinette said. “I’m with you so far. What does any of that have to do with me?”

“Ladybug and Chat Noir had a close scrape with Hawk Moth, in person, a few days ago,” Alya said. “Normally he just sends out his akuma’s to do his dirty work for him, but for whatever reason, he came in person that time.”

“Adrien mentioned something about it,” Marinette said, suddenly recalling their conversation. “But there wasn’t anything about it on the Ladyblog.”

Alya shrugged, her brow creasing. “It was a bad day. I was across town at a family function and no one could get close enough to film or ask questions. Worse, it was at the top of Montparnasse, so the actual news outlets weren’t able to get close enough to film, either. I missed a lot of what happened that day. What I could gather, though, was that another Miraculous holder was with them, one of other heroes.”

“Ok,” Marinette said. “So?”

“So,” Alya said, “I think that hero might have been you.”

Marinette nearly fell of the chaise. “Me!? I can barely remember who the Kitty is, you think I was out there with them?”

“I think,” Alya said softly, “That while the Miraculous can protect your body, they can’t always protect the mind. I’ve heard of cases before, where people are so traumatized by what they experience their mind tries to protect them. Sometimes they go blind, or deaf, or…forget things that hurt too much. I don’t really know what happened that day, Marinette, but not all of the stories on the Ladyblog are good ones.”

Marinette pulled a blanket off the back of the chaise and pulled it around herself with shaking fingers as she processed what Alya had said. Her, a…super hero? But she’d never been one for direct confrontation; what in the world would make Ladybug choose her?

“It’s ok, girl,” Alya said, pulling her best friend in for a tight hug. When Alya realized Marinette was trembling, she didn’t let go. “It’s just an idea, something I read about. Maybe it’s something else. Maybe it’s a side effect of an akuma - like Oblivio!”

Marinette struggled to calm down. “Oblivio?”

“Yeah, they were this super-villain that erased people’s memories. Maybe Hawk Moth’s getting stronger and this is a side effect of that.” Alya paused, then quietly said, “Actually…Oblivio was me.”

“You?” Marinette straightened, staring at her friend.

“Me,” Alya said with a nod, “And Nino.”

“But…how - ”

“I guess that’s the most important thing you need to know,” Alya said as she studied her jeans. “Anyone can be akumatized, Marinette. Anyone. When you feel really angry, or sad, or any strong negative emotion, it somehow creates an opening for Hawk Moth. He can send one of his butterflies after you. It amplifies that emotion until you’re happy to work with him, so you have to be careful. He’ll sweet talk you, promise you whatever you want, in exchange for one thing.”

“What?” Marinette whispered through lips that had gone cold.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.”


	6. A Cat in the Night

Adrien waved to Nathalie as he sailed through the foyer but kept going for the stairs.

“I’ll eat in my room tonight,” he said. “Lots of, um, homework to catch up on.”

“Your father is waiting to have dinner with you.”

Adrien froze, one foot on the landing, and turned back around to face his father’s assistant.

“What?”

Nathalie cleared her throat, glancing toward the dining room doors. “Your father has cleared his schedule to have dinner with you.”

Adrien’s stomach dropped. After months and months of waiting for this father to wake up from his grief-wrapped cocoon, he’d finally accepted it wasn’t going to happen. He knew that could happen sometimes, but he’d never imagined his stoic father could be so affected.

If only he’d known it would only take several thousand dollars to get his attention, he thought bitterly.

He instantly regretted the thought. It wasn’t his fault. Without his friends, and school, and…without his Lady, he doubted he’d be much different. But it wasn’t like his father was without a heart. His father would understand why he’d called off the shoot.

“Thank you, Nathalie,” Adrien said, retracing his steps. She gave him a curt nod, checked something off on her clip board, and disappeared into the small office beside his fathers.

Adrien took a deep breath and turned to face the dining room doors.

He’d felt this anticipation before, but usually he was on the other side, wishing and hoping his father would join him. Now he found himself just hoping his father wouldn’t be too disappointed. That they could make the most of a long over-due dinner.

Still, he paused, his hand on the knob.

“Hurry up,” Plagg muttered from inside his jacket. “I’m starving!”

“You’re always starving,” Adrien said, but still, he smiled. “This was all I ever wanted, but now… I don’t know if I can make it through the meal. Not while…”

“You’ve got time, kid,” Plagg said, actually gentle for once. “You’ve got time.”

Adrien’s heart ached. “How do you know?”

“Like you said, she’s got a plan,” Plagg said. “Trust me - trust her.”

Adrien thought about it, then nodded. Panic wouldn’t get them anywhere. She’d once said he was a simple, straightforward guy who liked simple, straightforward solutions, but he had a feeling this wasn’t going to be one of those times. He needed to think of a plan.

Steeling himself, Adrien pushed open the door to the dining room.

His father was sitting at the head of the long table, swirling a glass of red wine as he waited for his son. Gabriel Agreste raised a single brow as his son approached the table, but otherwise his face was an unreadable mask.

It didn’t mean anything, Adrien knew, as he took the seat beside his father where his place setting had been laid out instead of his usual seat at the end of the table. His father had always been hard to read, but in the past year the same cold stone façade was all anyone ever saw. Whether he was concerned or angry, Adrien would never know until it was too late.

Gabriel broke the silence first. “Your behaviour today was unacceptable.”

Adrien’s hand twitched as he fought the urge to sink into his chair. He’d heard the posture lecture often enough to know he didn’t want it added to this one. “I know, father. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Gabriel repeated. “I see. Sorry you cost my brand thousands of dollars in lost salary, rental space, and advertising space? Or sorry you snuck some nobody civilian into my shoot?”

“Marinette’s not a nobody,” Adrien said, his temper flaring. “She’s my friend.”

Gabriel’s fork had frozen halfway to his mouth. “What did you say?”

“Marinette’s my friend,” Adrien said even as visions of his father pulling him from school flashed through his head. “I’m sorry about the lost time, but I’m not sorry I brought her. She was the best part of this afternoon.”

“Miss Dupain-Cheng is proving to be quite the negative influence on you, Adrien,” Gabriel said, his eyes narrowing.

Adrien was surprised to find his heart breaking for the second time that day. He held his breath as he waited for his father to banish him from seeing her like he’d banished Nino, but it didn’t happen.

“You should spend more time with Miss Rossi,” his father said instead. “She’s a young lady with a good head on her shoulders and a bright future ahead of her.”

Adrien had to stop himself from shaking his head in disbelief. How Lila had won over his father, he’d never known, but he was quickly coming to realize letting her fibbing go unchecked had been a mistake, one he wished he could take back. It was just…after the akuma’s he’d faced every day, calling out some new girl who just wanted to make friends hadn’t been worth it. If only he’d seen in time how insidious those lies would turn out to be.

“Yes, father,” Adrien lied. Sometimes the only way to beat a liar was at her own game. “She’s a great co-worker. Very natural.”

Gabriel raised a brow, as though he didn’t quite believe his son, but let the matter drop. “Are you ok?”

It was Adrien’s turn to freeze. His broccoli fell off his fork and fell back onto his plate with a _splat_ but he didn’t even notice. “Father?”

“That…thing,” Gabriel clarified - barely. “It didn’t hurt you?”

“No, father,” Adrien said, fighting against the warm bloom of hope in his chest. “No permanent damage. Or temporary damage, actually. I was changing when the set was attacked.”

“Good,” Gabriel said. Adrien thought he saw his father’s shoulder relax, but told himself he must be imagining it. “Good. Don’t forget to complete the Chinese lesson your tutor outlined for you..”

With that, Gabriel stood, dropped his napkin on his half-finished plate, and headed for the doors without looking back once. Adrien watched him go, at once disappointed and relieved. His father had always been stoic; it’d be stranger if he’d showed any real emotion.

He waited a few more moments before following his father out the door. “I’m done as well,” he said as he passed Nathalie in the hall while she collected the evening newspaper. “Thanks. I’m just going to go work on that Chinese lesson.”

His father’s assistant nodded, jotting down notes on her clipboard. Adrien struggled to not run up the stairs, to not let on that anything more exciting than verb conjugation might be on his mind. He paused outside his door and pulled out his phone, scrolling without seeing the screen just in case she was still watching. He wasn’t eager to escape for any particular reason. No, sir. It was going to be a long, boring night.

After a minute, Adrien put his phone away and slipped into his room.

“That went better than expected,” Plagg said, zipping out of Adrien’s jacket. “But a meal with no cheese? How depressing.”

“There’ll be cheese when we get back,” Adrien said, opening his window.

Plagg stopped mid-flight and paused to look at his owner. “You, uh, have a plan, then.?”

“Still working on it,” Adrien admitted as he set up his desk in case anyone came to check on him. It was amazing what you could get away with when your bathroom was ensuite. “But…I think there are probably things I know, things I’ve purposely ignored because we both agreed our identities needed to remain secret. Things I can remember if I try.”

Plagg drifted a little closer. “Like?”

“Like how she always seemed to know my friends’ names,” Adrien said as he shut his bathroom door, the light on inside. “Things like that. I was distracted when it happened, and didn’t think anything of it because I also knew their names, but…”

“You don’t mean -”

“I do,” Adrien said, finally turning to face his kwami. “I think I’ve met her. And I think I’ll be able to find her.”

“You’ve gotta be crazy,” Plagg said, swooping into Adrien’s face. “Two million people in Paris, and you think you’ve met this girl before?”

“It’s all I’ve got,” Adrien said with a confident smile. “But it’s somewhere to start. After all, she answered my poem.”

“It was unsigned!” Plagg reminded him. “I don’t want to dash your hopes, kid, but you’re looking for a Ladybug in a rose garden.”

“She needs us, Plagg,” Adrien said. “I won’t let her down. Claws out!”

Chat Noir breathed through the transformation as green light enveloped him. Seconds later he bounded for the open window and rooftops of his city.

Plagg had warned him about using the Miraculous for selfish reasons. He remembered because it had seemed so odd coming from the lazy, irresponsible and sometimes self-centred kwami, but Plagg had been emphatic. ‘The black cat is cursed enough. No need to invite destruction’.

But these weren’t strictly selfish reasons, Chat Noir reasoned. For one, he was due to patrol that night anyway. As unlikely as Hawkmoth was to attack twice in one day, it was becoming more and more frequent. Besides, the sentimental part of him was stubbornly clinging to what he did have left of his lady. She’d made the schedule, and he would follow it.

Secondly, it was part of her plan. Of that he was certain. She’d had to give up the box. She wouldn’t do it without a reason. He faltered and nearly missed the next gable as another thought crossed his mind, one he hadn’t considered before; what if…what if finding her wasn’t part of the plan. What if she’d given it all up, intending to let him finish the fight? What if that was the best she could manage?”

No. She’d said if love was enough she’d still be here. That had to mean he had to use other skills to make up the difference.

And…and…

Chat Noir came to a stop as her message finally, finally sank in. If love were enough, she’d still. “She…loves…me?”

No. No. He had to be misunderstanding. Maybe she’d meant if she’d loved him back, she’d still be there. Or that she did love him, but the way he loved Nino or Alya; or the way he loved her when he was trying not to be in love with her. Or maybe just love in general, as opposed to the dumpster fire of hatred Hawkmoth was usually spewing.

Was that it? Was she trying to tell him that hatred would win? That she had no interest in watching them continue to fight a losing battle?

No. That, he refused to believe. He might not know her, but he knew her. She’d never give up, not even when the odds weren’t in her favour. It was one of the things he loved and admired most about her, that tenacity to see right done. She hadn’t given up. Not yet. He wouldn’t either.

“You’re so lucky I’m not an akuma,” a voice said from behind him, “Or you’d be toast right now.”

Chat Noir spun and found himself face to face with the new Bug. He scowled and vaulted over her to another roof top without a word. He wanted answers, but he wanted peace more, and he couldn’t think when he was angry.

“Hey, hey!” The girl followed him, annoyingly adept with the yo-yo. “Don’t be like that. We have to work together! We’re a team!”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Chat Noir said, stopping so abruptly she nearly crashed into him. “You and I aren’t anything. Me and my Lady, we’re a team. You’re an interloper, and you weren’t invited.”

“You _need_ me,” she said, stomping her foot as he took off again. “Only Ladybug can purify akuma’s, and only the lucky charm can make everything right again.”

Chat Noir’s ears twitched, but he didn’t say anything. What was there to say, really? She was right. He might hate the truth, but it wasn’t any less the truth just because he didn’t like it. That had been his life for a long time now; why should this be any different?

He landed hard on top of the Notre Dame cathedral and waited for his new partner to catch up. He tried to practice some deep breathing, but he couldn’t quite put his his anger down. It bled into his voice when he spoke.

“I am not giving up on her,” he said as the girl skidded to a stop in front of him. “There’s something going on here, something we don’t know, and I am not abandoning her.”

The new girl actually rolled her eyes. “No one said you were abandoning her, Kitty Cat.”

Chat Noir was in her face before he even realized he’d moved, mere inches between them. In that moment he wanted nothing so much as to rip the Miraculous from her ears, to blot out the wrong shade of blue staring back at him from behind that mask. “Do. Not. Call. Me. That.”

“Ok, ok!” she snapped, backing up. “Whatever. But seriously. I’m not here to replace Ladybug. I know how it looks, but I’m not trying to _be_ her, I’m just… I’m just a place holder, ok?”

Chat Noir frowned, watching as the new Bug swatted loose strands of hair out of her face. “What do you mean, a place-holder.”

“It’s not some kind of code, Ki - partner,” she said. “That’s what the guardian guy said to me when he gave me the earrings; that they’re not for me to keep, just to hold on to.”

“To hold on to…until what?” Chat Noir asked as his heart began to pound.

The new Bug threw up her hands. “Ugh! As if I know? The only thing he told me was the Ladybug wanted me to hold onto them for her.”

It was like being hit by a tonne of bricks. “She…she chose you?”

The girl shrugged uncomfortably. “Yeah, I guess? Don’t get excited, it’s not like she said why, but…yeah. She did.”

“That would have been nice to know a little earlier,” Chat Noir said wryly, but his mind was already a million miles away. He had been right; his lady _did_ have a plan. She wasn’t abandoning him. She just needed a little help - and so did he. “How do I get in touch with the guardian?”

“How should I know?” the girl said as she glanced down at the street below. “It’s not like I got a tutorial, it was all ‘here’s the Miraculous, go fight that akuma!”

“So there wasn’t any time…” Chat Noir struggled to compile all this new information. It had been days since he’d last seen his Lady, but from the sounds of it she’d only given up the Miracle box in the last 48 hours.

Part of him ached at that, that she hadn’t come to him for help, but he tucked it away for later. What mattered was that he’d been right. He clung to that knowledge, that hope that everything - that she - was not as out of his reach as he’d feared.

“So,” he said considering his new, temporary partner, “What do I call you, then?”

“Ladybug’ is just fine,” she said. “After all, I imagine part of the point of giving the Miraculous to someone else is to not alarm the people of Paris.”

Chat Noir shook his head. “You’re not her,” he insisted stubbornly. “I won’t call you by her name.” Nevermind that he didn’t even know her real name. “How about ‘Red’?”

The girl shrugged, though he thought he could detect a current of annoyance. That, at least, was familiar, although it wasn’t tinged with the affection he’d never realized til then was usually there. “I guess that’s fine.”

Chat Noir was about to relent, to try to ease into a new partnership with this girl, but unfortunately, he never got the chance. His worst cat-themed pun yet was on the tip of his tongue when the night exploded with screams of terror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, and I hope you're enjoying these new clues as much as I am ;) <3


	7. Damages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pacing? I don't know her.
> 
> It seems the the Miracle Box Memory Wipe has long-term effects

Marinette jumped as shrieks erupted in the street outside her window. Before she could so much as ask what was going on, Alya had clambered up to the skylight, phone out as she recorded, pausing only long enough to wave at Marinette to follow her.

“I’m currently at the Dupain-Cheng bakery where cries of fear were heard moments ago in the street below,” Marinette could hear her friend saying as she rocketed onto the balcony. “An akuma attack twice in one day is unusual, but no longer as out of the ordinary as…”

Stunned, Marinette climbed to her feet. Her heart was pounding, but she ignored it as she followed her friend. She felt naked and exposed as she climbed out into the night, but was painfully aware that whatever was in store for them wouldn’t be deterred by anything short of the impossible magic Alya had described.

Magic her friend suspected she might have wielded at one point.

Marinette stared at her hands as she crouched beside her friend. She tried to imagine them covered in the same impervious fabric Ladybug and Chat Noir had been wearing, but for the first time in her life, she came up blank. She’d never been the type to run head-first into danger. Sure, she cared about doing the right thing, but…she was only one person.

Alya held her phone out towards the street and leaned in towards Marinette. “Rule number one during an akuma attack,” she whispered, “Lock down the area if you’re not in the middle of it. Rule number two, stay calm. Rule number three, let the heroes do the work.”

“This is ‘locking down’?” Marinette said, eyeing the phone.

Alya at least blushed. “Not…exactly,” she admitted as she glanced at the screen.

“It’s not safe out here, Alya,” Marinette said. her skin was prickling with trepidation. “We should go inside.”

“It’s for the blog,” Alya said stubbornly. “Besides, it never bothered you before - not that you’d remember that.”

Marinette had a hard time believing she’d be ok with her best friend putting herself in harms’ way. She was beginning to think her friend was putting a little too much faith in her idol. She shivered as she remembered how the needle had torn through her own back that afternoon, a blow that would have incapacitated Chat Noir if she’d been just a little slower.

Suddenly, Alya screamed beside her. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME LADYBUG HAD A NEW SUIT?”

Marinette slowly uncurled from her duck and looked where her friend was pointing.

Across the river, standing on the roof of the Notre Dame, were Ladybug and Chat Noir. They surveyed the street below, no sign of the tension from that afternoon between them.

“Oh! My! GOD!” Alya was saying as she zoomed in on the duo. “Is it possible Paris’s favourite hero has levelled up?! Check out the new suit! And the hair! Amazing!”

Alya continued to gush about Ladybug, but Marinette couldn’t tear her eyes away from the hero’s partner. Just like that morning, a storm of emotions began swirling in the pit of her stomach, threatening to overwhelm her completely. She could swear she felt her heart tugging, almost as though she missed him.

If she’d lost her memories, would the feelings stay, she wondered. Even if she didn’t recognize him, could she still miss a friendship she was beginning to suspect might have been there?

And then Marinette knew: Alya’s theory was wrong. Maybe not entirely, but there was…there was more. Her heart raced painfully, as though she were standing at the edge of a precipice, a dark, churning ocean just beyond the tips of her toes, the answers she needed just past where she could see.

Alya’s grip on Marinette’s arm brought her painfully back into the present. Ladybug and Chat Noir had disappeared over the other side of the Notre Dame, where more screams had erupted.

“Lets go!” Alya sprung to her feet. “I can’t believe I’m so close right when this is starting. This never happens.”

“Go ahead,” Marinette said, following her friend down into her room. “I’m not feeling so great.”

Alya stopped, one hand on the hatch. “Are you ok? Do you…do you want me to stay?”

Marinette had to hide a smile. From what she’d seen of the Ladyblog, she knew the offer wasn’t one her friend made lightly. “Go ahead,” Marinette said. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for coming. I’m just going to ‘lock down’ and catch up on what I’ve missed.”

“Ok, girl,” Alya said, flinging open the hatch. “Stay safe, and keep an eye out for what you miss!”

“You stay safe!” Marinette said, but Alya had already disappeared.

She shook her head, closing the hatch before dropping back onto her chaise. She pulled up the blog on her phone, but rather than scroll through it, Marinette let it drop to her stomach as her conversation with Alya swirled through her mind.

She’d been right. There were gaps in her memory. Huge, enormous, truck-sized gaps. But why? An akuma, like Alya had suggested? A horrible side-effect of magic gone wrong? That felt…more right than her first theory. She knew she was a lot of things, but a superhero just wasn’t one of them. She hated fighting, and anyway, with how clumsy she was, she wouldn’t have been any good at it.

“Just a side-effect,” Marinette said to herself. “Just some magic.”

Magic. It was still hard to believe that was real - and worse, that it could be used against her in such a personal way if she wasn’t careful. Something flickered at the edge of her memory, but as she began to focus on it, it disintegrated, dissolving as though it had never been there at all.

Marinette sat up, tapping her foot as she glanced out her windows. The sounds of fighting had died down, but the occasional rumble still rattled the glass. She didn’t like fighting. She wouldn’t be any good at it. She hated violence.

So why did she find herself fighting the urge to tear after Alya? Why was her pulse racing, every nerve in her body daring her to leap into action?

“What…happened to me?”

Marinette stood and crossed the room to her vanity. She stared at her reflection as though staring for some sign of the trauma in her reflection, as though the answers might be written on her face.

But there was nothing unusual there - at least, nothing that stood out to her. Nothing that screamed ‘this is what happened! This is how to undo it!’

Sighing, Marinette turned back around and took one step towards her desk when a familiar swarm of bright ladybugs shot past her window into the street below. Seconds later her phone chimed.

Marinette scooped it up and opened the text from Alya in one smooth move as she dropped into her computer chair.

ALYA: ‘ _Over now. Ladybug and Chat Noir kicked serious akuma booty, but it was a real monster this time. I’m going to have nightmares for weeks_.’

Marinette’s shoulders relaxed as she texted her friend back, a knot of anxiety in her stomach easing. ‘ _Glad you’re safe. Can’t wait to see the footage_.’

She’d barely set the phone down when another text came in. ‘ _Realized you’ve forgotten anything else after reading the blog_?’

Marinette bit her lip. ‘ _Haven’t gotten a chance to read it yet. I’ll let you know_.’

She put the phone down again and reached for the mouse, but paused as her eyes landed on her bag and untouched homework. She sighed, reaching for the bag instead. Her problems weren’t going anywhere, and more importantly, she was willing to bet ‘akuma attack’ wasn’t going to cut it as far as excuses went. Besides, she was the one who’d decided to pass on her free period. The Ladyblog could wait.

Ten hours later, Marinette woke up face-down on her homework tablet, her cheek highlighting an entire paragraph on cell-structure.

“Wha…?” She sat up, wiping drool from the corner of her mouth. The clock on the nearly-dead tablet read 6:57 am. A little ways to her left was a bowl of soup she guessed her mom had left sometime when she’d been sleeping and hadn’t come down for dinner.

Marinette shuddered as she stretched, snatches of nightmares of horrible monsters drifting in and out of her memory, and a boy in black screaming her name.

“Weird dreams,” Marinette yawned as she plugged in the tablet to charge. “Weird…”

She paused, her skin tingling. Dreams…they were dreams, right? Or were they something else, something she was supposed to… She giggled to herself, standing up. Of course they were dreams, she thought as she began to get ready for another day, hunting for a pair of earrings. What else would they be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr handle is also Kittinoir if you have any guesses to who our new hero is! I'll tell you if you get it right ;)


	8. The Notes Of An Old Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir finally asks the right questions

Adrien needed a break.

His head slipped off the palm of his hand for the third time that morning, nearly smacking off the desk, and it hadn’t even been an hour since the bell rang. A glance down at his tablet revealed that he hadn’t written anything since the teacher had started her lecture, and the date had scribbled off into one long line as he’d dozed off.

“Dude,” he heard Nino mutter, “Mme. Mendeleiv is about to rip you a new one.”

“Sorry,” Adrien whispered, straightening. “Late night. Early morning.”

“The life of a super model,” Nino teased.

Adrien gave him a half-hearted grin. His friend didn’t know the half of it.

He hadn’t been able to sleep for days now, not since Red had shown up. Hawkmoth hadn’t attacked since that last monstrous akuma and everyone was on edge. If Adrien had had to guess, he’d think Hawkmoth was angry, and that had sunk a stone of worry so deep in his gut he’d been unable to dislodge it, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been just a little too late that day, the last time he’d seen her…

Adrien turned his thoughts away from that fight and back to the matter at hand. He and Red had been patrolling, and as much as he hated to admit it, when he wasn’t resenting her, he was grateful for the companionship. She seemed to understand he was hurting and didn’t push him when he grew quiet. She appeared to defer to his experience, but she also seemed to want to prove herself, jumping headfirst into battle, totally relentless. More importantly she seemed incredibly adept; he didn’t need to guide her often, almost as though she’d wielded a Miraculous before - a dangerous thought he didn’t let himself pursue, not since all the identities of the holders had been revealed months ago. Besides, he knew his Lady; it was unlikely she’d entrust one of them with the Ladybug Miraculous when their identity was compromised.

He’d pumped Red for more information, but she’d come up drier than a well. All she knew, she insisted, was what the new guardian had told her.

He’d come up empty on that front as well. Over the days frustration had begun to eat away at his concentration, but no new leads had presented themselves. He felt trapped, and while it was something he was used to, the chains still stung.

Then there was the matter of his Lady.

At the very least, he comforted himself with the knowledge that she was alive and well and waiting for him. Doubt snuck in from time to time - what if her plan had gone wrong and she was in Hawkmoth’s clutches? What if he was being lied to? What if he wasn’t smart enough to find her? - but he quashed it without a second thought. He would do this, if for no other reason than he refused to fail her. None of the rest mattered.

But his memories had yielded very little. He’d spent so much time trying follow their rules, trying not to know her, that now that he needed to, the memories were fuzzy and out of reach. He knew they were there, just barely beyond his grasp, but he hadn’t been able to bring any of them into focus.

And a small, scared part of him wondered what he’d do when he did find her. He knew someone that amazing wouldn’t just stop stunning him because she’d lost her memories. She’d be who she was with or without them.

But the part of her that had been his friend, his partner, would that all be gone? Would she believe him? Would she not want anything to do with him, with the Miraculous? And how was he supposed to get her memories back? Was it even possible? Or worse, even part of the plan? Maybe all he was supposed to do was find her and give the earrings back. Maybe getting her memories back wasn’t part of the deal at all.

“Mr. Agreste?”

Adrien nearly fell out of his seat, his stylus dropping to the floor with a clatter.

“Yes, Ms. Mendeleiv?”

She gestured to the board where a wicked chemical problem was glaring down at him. “Perhaps you’d like to solve?”

“Um, sure,” Adrien said, sliding out from behind his desk. He’d taken two steps when the bell ring, instantly turning the equations he’d been trying to do in his head to smoke. Ms. Mendeleiv scowled but didn’t insist on the problem. Her warning glare, though, came through loud and clear: she better not catch him slacking off again.

“Man, how do you do it?” Nino asked with a grin, shaking his head. “I wish I had your luck.”

“Trust me,” Adrien said as he turned back to the desk. “No, you don’t.”

“That was a monster of a question,” Alya chimed in, slinging an arm around Marinette’s shoulders as she leaned in. “I never would have been able to figure it out without Marinette’s help.”

Marinette blushed, ducking out from her friends’ arm. “It was no biggie.”

“I don’t know, Marinette,” Adrien said with a smile. “I would have looked pretty dumb up there trying to do it on the fly.”

Adrien hid a wince as he began to pack up his bag. He’d meant to check on his friend, but everything had been so chaotic. Once or twice he’d thought of the way she’d jumped in front of him at the set of his shoot, taking the blow for him. It’d been horrifying to watch, and it had made him wonder about the times he’d done the same for Ladybug. He’d always chalked it up to a necessary sacrifice; she was required to save the day, he wasn’t, and that was that. It didn’t matter how they won, as long as they did.

Except he was now painfully aware that it _did_ matter. The pressure, the fear, the panic. Had he put his Lady through all that? He’d chalked it up to strategy, but what if he’d only really succeeded in giving her nightmares?

“You dropped this.”

Adrien’s friends’ chatter died down as he looked up into Chloe’s face. She was holding out his tablet stylus, her bag slung over her shoulder as she headed for the door. Her face was a careful mask, completely devoid of her usual haughtiness - or any other emotion for that matter, like, say, desperation, fear, regret. The emotions that had been there the last time they’d spoken.

Adrien took the stylus without a word. He slipped it into his bag with his tablet and made for the door, leaving his former friend staring after him.

He didn’t know what hurt more: Chloe’s betrayal, or the fact that everyone had been right about her. He knew she was spoiled and selfish, but he also knew that was all she had to protect herself from parents that weren’t always there for her. He could understand that, probably better than anyone - because if she let herself be real, she’d have to face some hard truths she clearly wasn’t ready for. And he’d been willing to let that go, because underneath all that was his first friend, a girl who’d let him in despite all that, who’d made him laugh and stood up for him when he’d needed it most.

But siding with Hawkmoth, stealing the Miracle Box? It had been a step too far. They’d almost lost that day, and it would have been her fault. Ladybug had been right about her. She’d finally done something he couldn’t forgive.

The conversation resumed around him as Alya complained about the lack of footage for her blog and pretty soon exhaustion set back in, plaguing him through the rest of the day right up until he set foot in his room after school.

“You should sleep, kid,” Plagg said as the bedroom door closed behind them. “You need it.”

“Can’t,” Adrien said, dropping his school bag on the floor. “Patrol time. Besides, that’s when I do my best thinking.”

“It’s not thinking if your brain’s turned to mush,” Plagg argued. “You won’t be able to find anyone if Hawkmoth takes advantage of your weakened state.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” Adrien admitted. “I hate just sitting around.”

“I know,” Plagg said, “But she wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself.”

“Well I guess we’ll never know,” Adrien snapped, scowling at the open sky beyond his window. “It’s not like she left a note. Claws out!”

Ok. So maybe his resentment wasn’t just reserved for Red or this new guardian. Maybe he couldn’t help but resent his Lady a little, too.

But she’d left him without so much as an inkling that something was wrong. Without letting him in on the plan.

Without saying goodbye.

It was just like… well, it was just like when she’d found Fu, learned about the other Miraculous, and kept it from him, leaving him to play tag with akuma’s while she chose other heroes to help them. And he’d let it happen, because he trusted her, and he’d trusted the process, but it had hurt more than it helped, and he had a painful suspicion this was more of the same.

But then…his claws weren’t exactly clean, either. The jokes, the puns, the flirting; she probably hadn’t thought he’d take it seriously. Why else would she give the Miracle box to someone else?

But he knew why. In his heart of hearts, he knew why: because he’d try to stop her. And clearly she believed this was something she needed to do. Then again, that was his Lady. Always carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Hours passed before Chat Noir finally stopped to rest. He’d been avoiding the Eiffel Tower ever since Ladybug’s disappearance, but that was where he found himself when he missed her so much he couldn’t stand it any more. He prowled the structure as memories of them racing to the landmark and chasing each other to the top swirled around him. This had been where it all began. Now, this was one of the few places he still felt like she might be real, like he could turn a corner and she’d be there, grinning at him, ‘I win again!’

He stopped at the very top, at what he and Ladybug had called their personal observation deck - a place only they and gutsy maintenance workers could get to. He sank down on the metal grate, legs dangling over the side as he observed the twinkling lights of the city.

This was it. This was where he’d fallen in love with her. He’d said it on that day, the first day, but he’d never known how true it would be. He’d admired the way she thought, her bravery, her unstoppable drive to see justice done. She'd never tired. She’d truly believed they could have won.

He smiled a little to himself. Marinette was like that, too. Maybe that was what had drawn his lady to her, convinced her to give Marinette the mouse Miraculous.

Marinette. Alya. Nino. Max. Kim. Even him at one point.

She was probably someone that went to his school. Someone he’d passed a million times, someone seen in the hall or the locker room, someone he might have shared a table with at lunch. Someone, he had to admit, he’d never noticed.

Part of him felt terrible about that, but another part of him was relieved he at least had some course of action to pursue. It was a large pool of candidates, but at least it was something he could narrow down. And, he realized, he could start with people who had been akumatized.

“You’re a lot harder to track down than I thought you’d be.”

Chat Noir spun, lashing out with his baton, but quicker than he could see his assailant stopped it, seizing the end of the pole in his fist. A moment later he recognized the new guardian, Venetian mask and all.

“How did you get up here?” Chat Noir asked, glancing around. No civilian could make the climb, but then, this guy wasn’t just some civilian.

“You finally get me alone without a time limit and that’s the question you ask me?” He dropped down onto the grate beside the hero.

Chat Noir bit back a sarcastic remark. This was for his Lady. He could do this. He might be frustrated, but he needed answers. “Who are you?”

The Venetian mask tilted to one side. “Next.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said, ‘next’,” the guardian said.

“You can’t just not answer!” Chat Noir yelled, nearly shoving him off the platform.

“Actually, I can.” The guardian adjusted his jacket, which Chat Noir now saw was a black, over-sized sweater with a large hood that covered his hair and and deep red scrolling designs along the edges. “I follow someone else’s orders. But for now you can call me Salem.”

“Ladybug.” The guardian nodded almost imperceptibly. “So does that mean - I mean, is there a chance then, that she still has her memories? Is she - is she just in hiding?”

The guardian was silent for so long Chat Noir almost thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“I don’t know the extent of her plan,” Salem finally admitted. “There were guidelines when the box was relinquished, rules. I never saw her. I didn’t know she would lose her memory, and I don’t know the extent of the damage done.”

Hope died in Chat Noir’s chest, but he shoved it away. All it meant was that he was back to square one. That was fine. He could work with that.

“She didn’t tell you anything else?” he asked. “Any other message for me? A clue? Anything?”

The guardian shrugged. “Just what I told you.”

Chat Noir ran his claws through his hair, trying not to rip it out. “She didn’t tell you anything?! Did she at least say why?”

“Yes, actually,” Salem said. “You remember that akuma, the one from Montparnasse last week?”

“Veritas.” The name still sent chills down Chat Noir’s spine.

“Word on the street is one touch made you spill your guts,” Salem said. “Just blurt out whatever dirty little secrets you might be hiding. Not the most physically adept akuma, but just imagine what a win that would be for Hawkmoth. If not the Miraculous, the names of the ones who held them.”

“We stopped them,” Chat Noir said, but he dread crept along his skin, stole into his heart. “Nothing happened.”

“Did it?” Salem mused. “I hear differently. I hear you came late.”

“It…it happens,” Chat Noir stammered. “She knows that, sometimes it takes some time to get away, to get to the attack - ”

“And you never would have known,” Salem interrupted, “That you didn’t just come late, you came too late. That Veritas had already struck her, and she’d given up one of her most closely-guarded secrets. That Hawkmoth later hunted her down, intent on wringing the rest of the truth from her, and she gave up the Miracle box to protect that secret the only way she knew how - by forgetting it altogether.”

Chat Noir’s chest pounded painfully in his chest. The city spun below him, and he gripped the cold iron grate for all he was worth. “Her identity?”

“Not her identity, Chat Noir,” Salem said, leaning in. “Yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this answered some questions - and gave you some new ones ;) As always, if you can't wait for reveals, you are welcome to gush or guess any time on my tumblr @kittinoir <3


	9. The Ghost of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it even a lovesquare fic if Marinette doesn't design something based on Chat Noir? (No.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, thank you for all the love on this fic! I just wanted to give you a heads up that I'm heading up to the cottage today for some ~family vacation time~ and while I will have internet, I cannot promise I'll be writing while I'm up there. This fic is NOT abandoned, it just may be on some temporary hiatus and I wanted to let you know. Ily all, keep those guesses coming, and I will definitely see you soon!

“I’m going to design something based on Ladybug’s new suit.”

Marinette grinned, glancing over at Alya as they swayed with the metro as it took a graceful turn beneath the banks of the Seine. They were headed for Trocadero Gardens to work on Mme. Bustier’s latest fashion assignment: formal wear inspired by the heroes of Paris. Alya had suggested the Gardens, and though it was Marinette’s secret place for inspiration, she found she wanted to share the space. She’d missed her best friend.

“Long black gloves?” Marinette suggested with a knowing look. “Ombre skirt?”

Alya shook her head but stifled a giggle. “It’s like you read my mind, girl. Kinda obvious I guess, but…”

“I think it’s sweet!” Marinette said. “You’ve been a staunch supporter of Ladybug since the first day. You’ve been running the Ladyblog for a year and a half. A Ladybug gown only makes sense.”

“What about you?” Alya asked, tugging on her bag strap. “A stunning gown inspired by Rena Rouge? Or maybe Ryoku? You always love a challenge.”

Marinette shrugged. “I was actually thinking something inspired by Chat Noir.”

“Seriously?” Alya said, eyes wide behind her glasses. “You think he’s the lamest thing since, like, creation.”

“I do not!” Marinette said. “I think he’s…well, I think he’s really cool. And funny. And sweet. And the way he fights is just…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Alya held up her hand in front of Marinette’s face. “Since when do you have a crush on Chat Noir? What happened to Adrien?”

“A crush?” Marinette repeated. “I do not have a crush on Chat Noir!” But she felt a familiar blush creeping across her cheeks as her heart kicked into double-time.

“Uh-huh.” Alya raised a single brow, eyeing the red stain. “I can see that.”

“Seriously!” Marinette said, but Alya just winked and went back to scrolling through her blog for inspiration.

She did not have a crush on that…that tom cat. There was no way. Her heart was dedicated to Adrien, one hundred thousand per cent. He was the first thing she thought of when she woke up and the last thing she thought of before going to sleep. She still swooned every time he smiled.

So what was up with her heart doing the tippy-tappy thing over Chat Noir!? She could tell Alya whatever she wanted to; Marinette knew what it meant. She didn’t _not_ have a crush on Chat Noir.

Marinette stifled a sigh as they arrived at Trocadero and she followed Alya off the train. Maybe designing a gown inspired by Chat Noir would be a mistake. Maybe she should focus on one of the other heroes intstead. Rena Rouge did have a beautiful colour palette.

“Let me know if you have any, uhm, questions,” Alya said as they walked to the gardens. “About…well, you know.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “ _The Miraculous_.”

A crease appeared between Marinette’s brows. “…Questions?”

“Yeah,” Alya said with a nod. “I know you had that whole…thing a few weeks ago.”

“Thing?” Now she was really confused. “What thing?”

It was Alya’s turn to frown. “The thing. The thing where you forgot all about the super heroes? Hawkmoth? The Miraculous? You called me totally freaking out.”

Marinette tried to comb through the last few weeks in her memory, but nothing jumped out at her as out of the ordinary or suspicious. She’d missed one or two akuma attacks, but she’d seen them later on the news or on Alya’s blog. She used to get a thousand notifications on her phone whenever one happened, but she’d disabled them; they were way more annoying than they were helpful. She didn’t even remember downloading half the apps.

Finally Marinette shrugged. “Must have just been stress,” she said as the picked a spot to start working. “You know how I get sometimes.”

“Not really,” Alya said slowly. “Not like this.”

“Oh.” Marinette bit her lip, but she was still coming up empty. “I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“Worried me?” Alya squinted at her friend as they sank onto a bench near some rose bushes. “How many heroes are there?”

Marinette frowned. “Trick question, Alya. Obviously Ladybug and Chat Noir are the main duo, but there a team of six other heroes that help them out from time to time.”

“Trick question you answered wrong,” Alya said triumphantly. “There are seven others.”

Marinette made a face. “I wasn’t really counting Chloe, but sure, I guess, technically seven.”

Alya seemed surprised but let it go. “Ok, who are they fighting?”

“Hawkmoth,” Marinette answered immediately, “But he sometimes has help from Mayura. Ooh, she has a great costume. Do you think Mme. Bustier would let me do a design based on her instead of one of the heroes?”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Never mind,” she said, flipping open her notebook. “It was clearly fever-induced hysteria.”

“Sorry,” Marinette said. She nudged her friend with her shoulder. “Seriously though, I’m fine. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Alya gave Marinette a half-hearted smile. “You just scared me, girl. I’m glad you’re…well, feeling better, I guess.”

“Right as rain,” Marinette promised. Alya just shook her head, either in fake exasperation or real exasperation, Marinette wasn’t totally sure which, then dove into her sketch.

Marinette opened her own sketch book, flipping past old designs of derby hats and reception dresses until she came to a blank page. She pulled a pencil out, but she hesitated before putting lead to paper. She had to decide before she started. She only hesitated for a moment more before committing to the design that had been flickering around her mind since the homework had been assigned. Besides, if she didn’t like it, she could always change it later.

She began with the bodice, sketching out the silhouette of a cheongsam. Marinette had discovered some time ago that she enjoyed infusing her designs with aspects of her culture from her mothers’ side.

She followed the simple and elegant lines down to the floor in a fit and flare skirt, forsaking the yards of fabric and billowing skirts she normally favoured. While his suit had more embellishments than Ladybug’s, they were few, far between, and utilitarian. Well, she thought, smiling to herself as she added a bell to the collar, almost.

Marinette scrawled notes in to the side of the design indicating colour and texture, then tilted her head as she considered what she had. She liked the silhouette, but many cheongsams had some floral design embroidered across the fabric. There was also the matter of the belt. She added a modest slit to the skirt on the left that came up to the knees while she thought on it.

Before she reached a decision, alarmed shouts erupted around them. Marinette twisted, her sketchbook falling to the paving stones, as she searched for the source. Sure enough, Alya’s phone erupted with at least six notifications, alerting them to an akuma attack in the area.

“Score!” Alya cheered, shoving her book back in her bag. “Talk about inspiration!”

“I don’t think it’s normal to be that happy about someone else’s misfortune,” Marinette chided, but Alya had already set her phone to record.

“Are you coming with me this time, girl?” Alya asked, but as she spoke the paving stones beneath them began to rumble.

“I don’t think I’ll have to,” Marinette said, her voice vibrating with the impact. “I think whatever it is is coming to us!”

Sure enough, _something_ exploded from the ground mere feet away from them, showering stone and dirt in a 5 metre radius, a black rose clutched in its hand. Marinette and Alya ducked, wincing as small pebbles pelted them. Alya shrieked as a larger stone ricocheted off her phone with a loud crack and the screen went black.

“My phone!” Alya smacked the side of the device, trying to get it to light up again while Marinette watched in horror as the monster turned towards the noise. “My _phone_!”

“Alya!” Marinette leapt at her friend, tackling her out of the way as the monster crashed towards them. It missed them by a wide margin, and a second later, Marinette could see why: its eyes were clouded over. Either this thing was blind, or could see very little.

“Time to go,” Marinette said. She grabbed Alya by the wrist and tugged her after her as she sprinted back towards the train station.

“But Marinette, my blog - ”

“These things are dangerous, Alya!” Marinette snapped as her friend tugged her to a stop. “Why don’t you get that!”

“Dangerous?!” Alya sniped back. “Ladybug’s miracle cure always fixes everything !”

Marinette wanted to rip her hair out. “But what if it doesn’t? What if she loses? She’s just a girl, Alya, and Hawkmoth is getting closer and closer to cornering her! Do you even realize how much pressure you put on her by putting yourself in danger like this?”

For once Alya seemed to be at a loss for words. “I.. I just…”

Marinette knew. She wanted to be a reporter. She admired Ladybug so much. She loved superheroes. She wanted to be a part of the team. She wanted to help do what was right.

“Come on,” Marinette said, “Let’s head for the roof of the Musée de la Marine. It’ll be safer and you can probably still see what’s going on.”

Alya said nothing, but let Marinette pull her along again. They hadn’t gotten very far, however, when the monster exploded from the ground again, closer this time.

“I WANT THE MIRACULOUS,” it shrieked. It writhed , and before they could react, it pounced on Alya, burrowing back into the ground with her trapped between its hideous arms.

“Alya!” Marinette clawed at the ground where they’d disappeared, but the dirt sifted through her fingers, empty. She whipped around as the monster burst from the ground again, thirty metres away. Alya was no where in sight.

“Give her _back_ ,” Marinette shrieked. She seized a large rock by her foot and flung it with all her strength. A small part of her was surprised when the rock actually nailed the thing in the forehead, but it was swept away in the flood of her rage. She grabbed another rock, and another, pelting the monster’s wide body as it searched wildly for her. It dove suddenly, and Marinette flung herself to the side, scraping her arms and cheeks on the rough stones as the akuma resurfaced where she’d been crouched.

“Lucky Charm!”

Marinette threw her arms over her head protectively as the battle cry rang throughout the gardens. She could see the shadow of the monster arcing towards her, and then she was flying, the Trocadero Gardens far below.

“Nice aim,” a voice said in her ear. “I think the akuma’s still shaking.”

Marinette looked up into the face of Chat Noir, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck as she put the pieces together.

“It took Alya,” she blurted, and she was embarrassed to discover she was tearing up. “It took her, please, you have to - ”

“We’ll get her back, Marinette,” Chat Noir promised as they landed somewhere new in the gardens. He gave her a crooked smile. “I swear on one of my nine lives.”

“It’s holding a rose,” Marinette rambled as he set her legs back under her. “I think that’s where the akuma’s hiding. It’s in its right fist.”

Chat Noir’s grin actually faltered. “What - How do you know that?”

“The rose was black.” Marinette turned back towards the monster, as though she could see it from where she was. She couldn’t, but faint dirt clouds marked where it was hiding. “There aren’t any black roses grown here. I wouldn’t be surprised if the monster is actually a gardener here.”

Chat Noir nodded, squeezing her shoulder. “Thank you, Marinette. We’ll get your friend back.”

He extended his baton and used it to vault back towards the action. Marinette crouched by a near by bush, making sure to note whether or not the ground was shaking, but it seemed Ladybug and Chat Noir were keeping the villain well occupied. Minutes later a red cloud burst from where the fight had taken place. She could hear the cheers of people nearby.

Marinette began to straighten but froze as a small cloud of ladybugs sought her out and swirled around her face and arms. It was only then she truly noticed the scrapes, but as she watched, they faded. Seconds later they disappeared altogether. Still, the ladybugs danced over her skin, tickling, caressing, comforting, almost as though greeting an old friend, but slowly their light began to fade. They only lasted moments more, and then they, too, vanished with a small, red sparkle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://theculturetrip.com/asia/china/articles/a-brief-history-of-the-cheongsam/ < Read more about the history of the cheongsam, or qipao, here :)


	10. Really Wanna Let You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mandatory balcony scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! Just a reminder I'm at my cottage until the end of the week so this fic probably won't update until I'm back <3

Chat Noir stifled a curse as his toe caught on a loose shingle and he nearly toppled right over the edge of a roof, straight down into the street below. He caught himself at the last moment and used his momentum to swing himself back up. He started running again, scowling at the stupid mistake, but then, he was making a lot of those these days.

He’d been careless, and lazy, and…and irresponsible. That was how he’d gotten into this mess, and that was why he still hadn’t been able to find her.

This, he thought as he glanced at the pink sketch book in his right hand, at least he could do right. He’d recognized it as Marinette’s instantly, but when he’d tried to return it at the Gardens, she and Alya had disappeared. Not really a surprise, he guessed; Alya probably had some story to upload to her blog.

A small part of him had been flattered when he’d picked up the book and saw sketch based on his suit, but he knew better than to read too much into it. After all, he had the same assignment. There weren’t exactly tonnes of them to choose from. He’d been marginally surprised she hadn’t chose to use Multimouse for inspiration, but then, she technically didn’t exist. Besides, only Chloe would be vain enough to design something based on herself. Well, and he’d be lying if the thought hadn’t crossed his own mind. He’d quickly dismissed it, however, in favour of a more personal design concept based on - and, in his heart, dedicated to - his Lady.

Marinette’s design was beautiful. Simple, but his guess was that she hadn’t gotten very far on it when she’d been interrupted. He’d thought about letting ‘Adrien’ return it but didn’t want to imply that he and his alter ego had been at the same place at the same time. Her name, however, was written in graceful cursive on the inside flap, giving him the only reason he needed to drop by.

He had to be careful, though. He couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes. One had been enough, and it had cost him everything. He couldn’t put Marinette at risk as well. She’d already warned him once at the studio when Scream-ripper had attacked. ‘ _Do I know you_ ’? She was clever, pretending she was nothing more than some passing civilian to him where Hawkmoth could easily observe him. After all, no one was safe while Hawkmoth was free. He wished he’d been able to protect Ladybug half as well as Marinette protected herself.

Which was why, he decided as he swung around a chimney, he would leave the sketchpad on her balcony and leave. No contact was probably safest - even if he did want to ask her how she was holding up. She’d seemed so scared a few weeks ago. He’d never admit it, but seeing that had left him a little shaken. Marinette always seemed like one of those people with an iron-core. He’d never seen her like that before, and he didn’t like it. Of course, Ladybug had been that way, too. Was that why she hadn’t trusted him with the Miracle box? Had he put too much pressure on her? Made her think she couldn’t rely on him?

Maybe, he thought, as he landed on Marinette’s roof and leapt for the chimney. Maybe.

And then panic turned his thoughts to dust in the wind, because there on the balcony, sitting in the chair with some tea and her tablet, was Marinette.

She glanced up at him, face going as red as his felt. Thank god for the mask.

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” he said intelligently. Luckily for him, she laughed, the sound like music to his sensitive ears.

“I live here,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

At least she didn’t sound angry about it. More curious. It made him smile, but then, she always did that.

“I have something for you,” he said, accepting defeat and dropping down to the balcony. “Not quite a glass slipper but…” He held out the sketchpad, and as she lit up, he was suddenly glad she’d been on the balcony.

“I can’t believe you found it!” Marinette exclaimed, standing up to take it. She quickly flipped through the pages, as though making sure an errant smudge of dirt hadn’t found its way on to one of the pages. She paused on the sketch clearly based off his suit, at once noticing his scrawled note in the margins: ‘Chat Noir Seal of Appur-oval’. She ran a finger over the signature, and he nearly purred, as though she were running that finger over his bare skin.

“I can’t believe you made the trip, either,” Marinette said, placing the book carefully on her chair. “You must be pretty busy, what with saving Paris and all.”

Chat Noir tried not to let her words affect him, but some of his chagrin must have shown on his face because she immediately frowned. “Never too busy for a fellow teammate,” he said easily, forcing a grin. “It was the least I could do, especially since I’m the reason Multimouse only got one shot.”

But Marinette’s frown only deepened. “Multi…mouse?”

“Yeah,” Chat Noir said, swinging his tail super-casually in one hand. Totally normal conversation. Totally normal conversation he was not taking advantage of because his Lady had disappeared. “That was what you called yourself, when Ladybug gave you the Miraculous, right?”

“I…guess it was,” Marinette said slowly. She looked like she was about to say something else, but her face abruptly smoothed, replaced by an easy smile. “Yeah. Don’t sweat it; whatever happened was probably my fault, not yours.”

Suddenly Chat Noir found himself struggling not to pour his heart out to this girl, to not ruin everything he’d worked so hard to maintain over the past year and half. But what was even the point? His Lady was gone, leaving him to pick up the pieces of his own mistake with a partner who was doing her best but was still inexperienced, and a guardian who was even less forthcoming than Fu had been, something he hadn’t even imagined could be possible until it happened.

And that was why he never should have come here. He was blurring the lines, between his civilian life and his vigilante one. And he was putting Marinette at risk - just like he’d done to his Lady.

“Chat Noir?” Marinette said before he could make up some lame excuse to leave. “If we were teammates once, then… well, to me, that means we’re friends. If you need help, or just…a place to rest for a little while? You can always come here.”

Her kindness was the final nail in his coffin, the reason he teased and joked and flirted; because he knew if anyone was ever genuine with him, it would break his heart. She was breaking it now. And now he had to break hers, too.

“Thanks for the offer, Mousinette,” he said, wincing internally. Dumb. So dumb. He had never sounded dumber. _Mousinette_. He should cataclysm himself right now. “But like I said before, damsels to rescue, Ladies to save. I’m fine. Although,” he said quickly, struck by inspiration, “Can I ask you a few questions about when you were Multimouse? I know Ladybug swore you to secrecy, but of course, the cat’s already out of the bag.”

“Uh, sure,” Marinette said, biting her lip, “But - ”

“Great!” Finally, a possible lead! He should of thought of this sooner. So dumb! And if this one didn’t work out, there was always Nino, Alya, and the others. “When Ladybug gave you the miraculous…she was suited up, right?”

Marinette frowned, then nodded. “I guess…?”

“Yeah, I guess she would have to be,” Chat Noir agreed. That would have been too easy. “Any chance Ladybug might be someone you know? Maybe a friend?”

Marinette seemed taken aback, but she shook her head. “No, Chat Noir, I swear, I have no idea who Ladybug is, and if I did, I’d never tell anyone.”

“No, no, I know you wouldn’t,” Chat Noir back peddled quickly. “I just thought I’d ask since I was here. We protect each other, that’s…that’s all.”

Marinette nodded. “I get it,” she said sweetly. “You’re a team.”

“Yup,” Chat Noir said as though chewing glass. “Me and her against the world. Thanks, Marinette. I won’t keep you. After all, it’s a school night.”

“No problem,” Marinette said, turning around for her book as he deployed his baton. “Thanks again for returning this. I swear this book has half my life in it.”

Chat Noir froze. “That book…?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said, thumbing through the pages one more time. “It’s practically a scrap book of my best work.”

“Right,” Chat Noir said, the muscle’s in his back tensing as he prepared to leave. “Thank you, Marinette. You’ve been a great help.”

“Me?” Marinette asked. “You’re the one who brought my sketchpad back.”

“Good night.” He left without more of a goodbye. There was no time. There never really had been, not for feeling sorry for himself anyway. Not when his Lady was out there waiting for him.

But he’d been honest thanking Marinette: she had been a great help, in reminding him of one very important detail that he’d forgotten until then, that Salem had withheld from him, thinking he’d be too distracted or disinterested to pursue it.

The Miracle Box didn’t come without instructions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are you dying for more: A Red reveal, or a Salem reveal?


	11. Desperate Measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can practically see the moment I realized all the stuff I could do now that Marinette 'isn't Ladybug' anymore

Marinette sighed and tapped her pen against the half-filled page of diary. She was halfway through recording her day, but she kept getting distracted. Of course, Adrien had that effect - but not in the usual way.

He’d missed yet another half day of school that afternoon and, for once, he hadn’t been at fencing club when she’d gone with Nino and Alya to drop off his homework. Her friend’s hadn’t seemed to find it weird, but she’d never known Adrien to not keep to the schedule she’d somehow accidentally memorized.

Nino had ended up taking the homework with him, saying they’d worked out a system for sneaking the missed work past his dad, and worse, his dad’s nosy assistant, Nathalie. It made sense, she guessed. Gabriel Agreste was known for his strict and solitary life-style.

But still, she couldn’t help but worry.

Frowning, Marinette flipped her diary closed and put it back in its’ nifty lock box. She remembered making the box to thwart Chloe, but she thought she remembered making it with a friend. When she’d asked Alya about, though, she’d said no. Still, the box came in handy. She could only imagine what Chloe would do if she got her hands on it. Chloe was somehow the only person not in her circle of friends who knew about her monstrous crush on Adrien, but she’d decided it was beneath her notice. However, Marinette imagined the copious paragraphs in her diary describing that very crush would not be.

She left the diary on her desk for the dress form in the corner. It had the muslin mock up pinned to it with the sketch pinned to the wall behind it but the drawing was still woefully lacking details. Maybe choosing Chat Noir for inspiration had been a mistake. She paused in front of the sketch, tracing the now-familiar shapes with her eyes, but inspiration wouldn’t strike. She couldn’t stop thinking about…

Adrien.

“Maybe I’ll just drop by,” Marinette said out our, grabbing her purse. “Just for a second. With some pastries. Real casually. Friends can drop by, right?”

It was like missing a step, she thought briefly, as she paused by the trap door and found she felt like she was waiting for a response from an empty room. She frowned, but stopped again as she again caught sight of her purse.

“Why…do I keep bringing this with me?” she wondered, unslinging it. “It’s empty.”

But it had felt natural, she realized, to grab it as she’d left. It did match her clothes, she guessed. Still, better to leave it at home.

“Hi, mom!” Only two customers were browsing the bakery this close to the dinner hour. Marinette was careful to circumvent them, ducking behind the counter as the bell over the shop door chimed and snagging a box on her way by.

Sabine shot her daughter a grin as she snagged a few pastries and layered them in the box. Marinette swallowed a smile as she included some passionfruit macarons and their world-famous croissants.

“Uh, excuse me?” Marinette jumped, whacking her head on the shelf and nearly dumping the pastries onto the floor. “Can I get some service here?”

Marinette straightened and squinted over the counter. “Chloe Bourgeois?”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but the move lacked the usual attitude, like her heart wasn’t really in it. “I need a dozen macarons and a dozen chocolate chip cookies.”

Marinette frowned, confused, but reached for a box. Rule Number One in the bakery was always help the customer - even if they were a pain in the butt from your class who had bullied you for literal years.

Still, a small part of her couldn’t help but feel bad for Chloe. The girl had hurt her, yes, and she’d made terrible choices, but now she was suffering terrible consequences. If Chloe had been her normal over-bearing, bratty self, Marinette might have been able to ignore it, but she just…took it all so stoically. The cold stares. The snide comments. It was no less than Chloe had done to any of them, but…

It all came back to Adrien.

Marinette had never known him to turn his back on anyone. Not even Chloe, not even when she deserved it - until now.

Which was probably why Marinette did what she did next.

“How’re you doing?”

Chloe’s head snapped around to stare at her one-time rival. “Ex-cuse me?”

Marinette fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I asked how you’re doing. Have you been…ok?” It was stupid. She knew that even as she asked, but how else did one ask how a classmate was coping with being totally frozen out?

“I’m great, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe snapped, snatching the box out of Marinette’s hands. “Thanks for asking.”

The other girl stormed over to the cash register and Marinette scowled, grabbing her own box of pastries. A waste of time to even ask. She ducked out the back door to avoid any more scathing comments and made for the metro that would deliver her neatly across the street from the Agreste mansion. She must have thought of a dozen things to say by the time she arrived, but as usual, as soon as those massive iron gates came into view, every single one evaporated.

Except the usual flush of giddiness was tainted by…anxiety? No, stronger. Foreboding.

As Marinette stood across the street, taking in the manse, a flood of confusion and fear swept over her, a storm like she hadn’t experienced in weeks. Part of her wanted to sprint right back down those stairs and back home. She was back on the edge of that precipice.

_‘CHAT NOIR!’ The girl’s scream echoed across the Pont Neuf. A flash of gold, a boy in black was knocked back again and again. She could do little but watch as she desperately tried to free herself. The boy stumbled again, his back against the shallow wall. She saw the monsters’ horrible grin, all those teeth, as it struck again. The boys’ baton snapped in two, and he fell._

_The girl screamed again, frantic desperation lending her strength to finally free herself. She didn’t bother trying to follow him; she dove into the frigid black waters closest to her and swam. Her lungs were close to bursting when she finally found him, but her relief was short lived as green light suddenly illuminated the water, revealing a familiar face. Shock made her gasp, and as silver bubbles raced for the surface, they were both abruptly drowning._

The images, ragged and disjointed as they were, slipped through Marinette’s fingers before she could even fully recognize them.

“I…” She hooked a strand of hair behind her ear with one shaky hand. “What was…” A half-faded dream? More like a nightmare. She glanced at the house again, but whatever it was had passed; only faint, fragile anticipation remained.

Rallying her resolve, Marinette stepped forward onto the sidewalk - and promptly into someone as they made for the metro. She managed to snag the hand-rail and keep herself from pitching completely down the stairs, but the box of pastries was not so fortunate. Croissants and macarons spilled across the sidewalk and down into the metro station.

“Oh my god!” Heat spilled across Marinette’s face, but it was hardly the first time she’d run into someone - or dropped a box full of baked good. “I am so sorry. And so clumsy. Sorry.”

“You said that already,” the boy said, brushing off his ornate jacket. At least, she thought it was a boy; a Venetian mask covered his face and a hood obscured his hair. “Watch where you’re going.”

The blush only got stronger, but Marinette scowled as she stooped for her ruined box. It wasn’t like she’d run into the guy on purpose. He didn’t have to be rude about it. “I’m sorry,” she said one more time, if only because she didn’t know what else to say. “Is your jacket…”

“Fine,” the boy snapped, brushing the last bits of dirt only he could see from the material. He froze. “I know you.”

“Um…I don’t think so,” Marinette said, glancing up from her inspection. “I mean…I think I’d know if we were friends.” Besides, her friends knew how clumsy she was. They never would have given her a hard time about it.

“I didn’t say we were friends,” the boy said. He leaned in, the purple and gold lacquer on the mask glinting from the shadow of his hood in the late-afternoon sun. “You’re the one who’s in love with Adrien.”

Marinette’s eyes went wide, and she was fairly sure her blush had blown all the way up to her hairline. No one but her girls - and quite possibly Nino - knew that secret. No one.

“I don’t - I’m not - I don’t have a crunch - I mean, a crush,” Marinette spluttered, frantically re-arranging her pastry box. “Certainly not on Adrien. We’re just…we’re just very good friends.” The words were bitter even as she fibbed; she couldn’t say them without remembering the times Adrien had used that exact same phrase. The difference was he meant it.

“Mhmm.” The mask tilted. “Is that why you’re outside the Agreste mansion with a box of gourmet pastries?”

Marinette straightened with as much dignity as she could muster. “Who are you anyway?”

But the question would have to wait as a tell-tale rumble rippled across the cobble-stones. Cries rose in the air as the people in the street stumbled and clung to anything around them. Marinette elected to drop the box for a second time and cling to the railing rather than risk tumbling into the annoying stranger a second time. He, on the other hand, seemed to navigate the tremor with relative ease, cursing up a storm as he anticipated each roll of the street.

“These attacks are getting closer and closer together,” Marinette growled as the tremors finally began to abate. “Doesn’t Hawkmoth have a hobby or a job other than terrorizing us?”

“Wish I knew,” the boy said, sounding about as pleased as she did. He glanced towards the Agreste mansion, almost as though that had been his destination as well, but ultimately ended up turning away - in the direction the tremors had come from. “See you around, Lovebug.”

“I am not his Lovebug!” Marinette stamped her foot. Deja vu swept in again, but dispersed as the rumbling started back up. “Wait!” She scrambled after the boy, not nearly as graceful as he was. “What are you doing! Are you crazy? You can’t go that way.”

“I’m crazy? You’re the one following me,” the boy said, glancing back at her over his shoulder.

“Seriously,” Marinette said, reaching for the boys arm as she caught up. “You could get killed. At best you’ll be a distraction.”

The boy pulled his arm away, slipping out of her grasp as he rounded a corner as easily as if she were made of air. “Go away,” he snapped, an edge in his voice. “Go hide. Leave it to the heroes.”

Marinette balled up her fists, wishing she’d worn her purse after all just to keep her hands busy. “They’re just people,” she snapped, following him down an alley. “We have to help them. Staying out of their way - that’s the best we can do.”

“Not all of us.” The boy paused at the mouth of the alley, looking out into the street beyond. Marinette peered over his shoulder and cringed as she beheld the fight.

It was already in full swing. Both Ladybug and Chat Noir were out there, but they were getting tossed around pretty badly. Any time they tried to co-ordinate an attack the akuma would engage them, preventing any progress. Ladybug looked better than the first time Marinette had seen her, but she seemed to be lashing out, more desperate than focused, more scared than confident.

Chat Noir, for all his skill, couldn’t pick up the slack. He was trying to run defense, but Ladybug couldn’t seem to anticipate either her enemy or her partner. It wasn’t going well.

The boy in the mask seemed to feel the same way. He looked back at Marinette again. She got the distinct impression he was appraising her, measuring her worth behind that inscrutable mask.

“If you could do more,” he finally said, “Would you?”

“I - ” She ducked as another tremor rocked the alley, but made herself nod. “If I could. They shouldn’t have to do this alone. I…I want to help.”

“Not afraid of joining the list of casualties you seem so convinced of?”

“I’d rather be on it and go down swinging,” Marinette said. She was surprised to find it was the truth. The boy seemed to believe her, too.

He reached inside his huge coat, rummaging around inside a satchel she hadn’t realized he’d been concealing. Marinette felt again like she was on the brink, but this time there was light at the bottom of the crevice, an answer to her question. The boy finally produced a little black box with decorative red scrollwork on top and held it out to her.

“You just carry those around with you?”

He ignored her. “Ladybug and Chat Noir need help, Lovebug -”

“Marinette,” she hissed though gritted teeth.

“They need help, _Marinette_ ,” he repeated, unphased. “Will you use the Miraculous of the mouse to aide them in saving Paris, your home?”

Marinette nodded. “I will.” For the first time, serenity surrounded her. Every step was new, but it was like she’d walked the path a million times before. She wasn’t sure where it lead, but she wasn’t afraid of what she’d find when she got there.

“Will you return the Miraculous to me, Salem, when the fight is done?”

“I…I will,” Marinette said. Her pulse was steady, even. She was ready.

“Then I give you the Miraculous of the mouse,” Salem said, tilting the lid back. A floating mouse burst forth in flash of pink light. Marinette fell back in surprise, but managed to keep from freaking out. She’d accepted this. She would do it. And it didn’t seem interested in crawling through her clothes.

“Marinette!” the mouse chirped, swirling around her head. “Marinette!”

“Hi there,” Marinette said. She couldn’t help but smile; its excitement was infections. Suddenly she remembered Chat Noir’s conversation from a few nights ago: ' _Multimouse, right?'_ Right…this all seemed… right. A little familiar. Didn’t it? Or had she dreamt it? She wasn’t sure anymore.

“Say ‘Mullo, let’s get squeaky’ while wearing the necklace,” Salem instructed as she lifted the jewellery from the box. “She grants the power of multiplication, but we warned, you only have five minutes. Don’t mess it up.”

“She knows!” Mullo chirped, swirling to a stop. “Oh, she knows!”

For the first time, Marinette thought that maybe she might. “I’m ready,” she said with a tight nod. “Mullo, let’s get squeaky!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! You can also find me on tumble under the same handle if you want to discuss/would like to take guesses on Red/Salem identities <3


	12. The Greatest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Multimouse has entered the chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't until I was rewatching a few episodes the other day I realized Emilie is technically 'missing, presumed dead', not actually dead-dead, so Ladybug also going ~missing~ might be a little more ~tramatiqué~ for Adrichat than I originally anticipated.

Chat Noir was in a foul mood. Of course, that seemed to be more and more true lately, but he was turning up more dead-ends than leads and it was eating him alive. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten the tablet with the Grimoire translation on it. Unless his Lady had kept it - and even if he was dead wrong and she had just quit, he still couldn’t see her doing that - Salem would have it. Worse, he had a sneaking suspicion Salem had intentionally ‘forgotten’ to mention it. He found himself again wondering why his Lady had trusted this new guardian, followed by the familiar sting of the inevitable, involuntary follow up of ‘instead of me’?

He hadn’t been able to hunt the guardian down since deciding if his Lady had left him any clues, they would be in there. Of course, that was how he told himself to think on it. The truth was he was running patrols two and three times a day, every day in the hopes Salem would show himself, because the truth was he knew about as much about him as it turned out he had about Ladybug. The guardian could disappear with the Miracle box and the book and he’d never know until it was much, much too late.

The worst of it was the resentment he found creeping in, stealing into his heart in the moments between patrols, between lives, while he snatched moments of rest here and there. How could she do this to him? They were supposed to be a team. They were supposed to trust each other. It was supposed to be them against the world. That’s what they’d always said. She’d never let him down before; why now? Why? Why, why, why, why -

It had become a constant refrain, and in the quietest moments, a small voice whispered to him that the person he really resented was himself. He had made the mistake. He hadn’t been careful enough. He had forced her hand. She was only trying to protect him, and he hadn’t been strong enough to protect her back. They were only where they were because of what he’d done - or failed to do. At the end of the day, he had no one to blame but himself.

Those insidious fears were easier to ignore in the light of day.

Because they were a team. They were the only thing they could count on. She knew that. And, just like with her convoluted lucky charms, there were pieces to the puzzle he just couldn’t see. He had to trust that. More importantly, he had to trust her. She had never let him down before. He doubted very much she would start now. _If love were enough, I’d still be here_. He had to believe in that.

Red wasn’t exactly helping. She seemed capable, but that partnership, that intuition… It wasn’t there. How could it be? Still, sometimes that feeling flickered to life, in a moment where a shared glanced lead to a perfectly executed plan. It was rare, and surprising, but if nothing else, it gave him hope. Besides, she hadn’t let him down yet, either. She was trying, even though it seemed impossible at times. If nothing else, he had to respect that. She kept showing up. He would, too.

Part of him wondered if this was what his Lady had felt in those last days. The daily burden of akuma fights, plus the responsibility of being the guardian, and then the added weight of his identity. It must have been overwhelming. He wished he’d known, at least about the last part. And there in an of itself was another question: how long had she known? A month? Weeks? Just a few days? How long had she kept that detail to herself until Veritas had wrung it from her? And…was she ever going to tell him about it?

Had she dropped in on him? Had she put herself in his path, curious about what kind of person he was behind the mask? Had he walked by her without even seeing her? Signed a slip of paper outside a shoot, cracked a smile, and carried on? Had she been there?

All questions he intended to have answers to once he found her - once he restored her memory. Another little detail he hadn’t let himself dwell on. The hard truth was that might not have been part of the plan, but it wasn’t a reality he was will to accept. Not yet.

Unfortunately for him, it appeared as though Hawkmoth had about as much information as he did. Whatever the reason, Chat Noir was willing to bet their nemesis was aware or at least suspected Red wasn’t the real Ladybug. Maybe he could sense the change in their dynamic. Maybe he just knew what Ladybug had done. Either way, the akuma attacks had become more frequent and more violent. They’d been challenging before, but Chat Noir could tell Hawkmoth wasn’t just furious, he was creative. He very much doubted the villain would simply settle for their Miraculous anymore: the man was out for blood.

The latest akuma was no exception. Roots the size of pillars exploded out of the ground whenever Weeping Willow twitched her fingers, plowing through buildings and trapping civilians where they stood. If he had to guess, Chat Noir’d bet Hawkmoth had discovered a disgruntled conservationist. Where the hell was he finding these people?

“I think it’s about time to trim back the deadwood,” Chat Noir panted as Red landed next to him. Between trying to locate where the akuma was hiding and luring Willow away from more populated areas, they were both out of breath.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Red said. She reached for her yo-yo, but Chat Noir’s hand snapped out, stopping her. “Hey! What are - ”

“Look!” He pointed down to the street where a flash of pink had caught his eye. At first they just looked like pebbles rolling across the stones, glinting in the afternoon sun. Then, with a flash of fear, he understood. “Oh, my god.”

“What?” Red snapped, squinting in the direction he’d pointed. “Some rocks? We don’t have time for this!”

“It’s another hero,” Chat Noir said, standing. “It’s Multimouse.”

“ _Who_?” Red stood as well, glaring down at the street. “Who’s Multimouse.”

Chat Noir grabbed his baton. “Not sure yet. I hope…Well, I don’t know which would be better, really.”

“That’s really helpful, O’Malley,” Red sniped.

“It’s the best I have,” Chat Noir shot back. He wasn’t the only one whose patience was running thin. He couldn’t blame her. A guilty part of him knew Red was relying on him for guidance and leadership. He should have made time to train with her, but… Well, any reason he could come up with would be an excuse. He needed to make time, but it appeared the guardian was done waiting for them to shape up.

It did mean one thing, though: the guardian was close by. And, if he was anything like his Lady had been, he’d be expecting the mouse Miraculous back as soon as they were done.

“Use your lucky charm,” Chat Noir instructed, glancing back at his partner. “Multimouse is going to help us, and I’m going to help her so you have the time you need to figure it out. Call us when you’re ready, and we’ll nip this in the bud.”

“Wait!” Red reached out and snagged his arm. “I don’t know if…what if I can’t figure it out?”

Chat Noir finally softened, offering her a smile of confidence. “You’ve got this. Ladybug chose you. And if you need help, I’ll be right there. And…if you want to set up some time to train later, just shoot me a message. We’ll set it up.”

She blinked, surprised, and for the first time Chat Noir got the feeling that for all the fuss he’d made insisting she wasn’t Ladybug, Red had never believed that she was or could be. She knew she wasn’t a part of the team, not really - and he’d let her believe that, because he was hurting too much to see it.

“Get going,” Red said, palming her yo-yo. “I’ve got this.”

“I know you do,” Chat Noir said with a quick salute. “Time to prune this weed!” He leapt, using his baton to take him straight down to the fight, but he was surprised to find when he got there that Multimouse, whoever she was, barely needed his help. Dozens of the tiny grey, black, and pink super heroines were swarming the street, taunting Willow. Roots slapped down on the stones like the tentacles of an enormous, pissed-off octopus. Upon closer inspection, Chat Noir was almost certain who was wearing the Mouse Miraculous; his heart leapt every time one of the roots crashed down, terrified for the girl behind the mask.

He jumped as a slight weight landed on his shoulder. He turned his head and came face to whole body with the tiny hero herself. “You guys looked like you could use a hand,” she chirped, swinging the jumprope slung around her waist like she’d been born with one in her hands.

“And you are?” Chat Noir asked, one eyebrow cocked as he held his breath.

“I think you know,” she said with a grin. “Now are you going to help me keep this thing distracted?”

“I was going to,” he admitted, “But you seem to have everything under control.”

“Do you know where the akuma’s hiding?”

He nodded. “Ring on her finger, but we haven’t gotten close enough to do anything about it.”

“Hmmm.” She squinted in Willow’s direction, her nose wrinkling up in a way that struck a chord of familiarity he couldn’t quite place - like he’d been here before. But that was impossible. “Sounds like a job for someone who can sneak up on her. Leave it to me.”

“Ma - Multimouse!” Chat Noir reached for her as she leapt of his shoulder but he missed by a mile. “Wait.”

“Keep her busy for me,” she said as she disappeared onto the street. All he could do was watch her go, scowling. It was just like Marinette to take an analytical approach. It was amazing to watch, but it also scared the life out of him. He loved her confidence. He wished ‘Adrien’s’ celebrity didn’t intimidate her so much.

“That girl thinks she’s invincible,” he muttered to himself as he flung himself into the fray. He whacked roots away with his baton, shredded through others with his claws. He thought about using his cataclysm, but there were too many roots to waste on one attack.

He was still weed-whacking when he saw Red sail by overhead. He made to break away to help, but he’d worked himself nearly to the heart of the akuma and couldn’t break free. Multimouse and ‘Ladybug’ would have to succeed without him.

Minutes later, Chat Noir’s fears were assuaged as the roots shrivelled up and wilted away around him. He looked up in time to see Weeping Willow dissolve back into a scientist he recognized from television. She’d been slated to give a lecture on climate change earlier that day. Apparently it hadn’t gone very well.

“Paw-some job,” he said, making his way around the damage to Red. “I knew you would get it.”

“I hate to say it, but without that Mouse girl I don’t know how it would have gone,” Red admitted. “Is she, like, a member of the team now or something?”

Chat Noir worked to stay calm. “I think this was a one time deal,” he said. He hoped. Because the truth was he didn’t know if he’d be able to handle it if it wasn’t. Not on top of everything else. Not her. “Speaking of, did you see where she got to?”

“She was just here,” Red said, scanning the destroyed street. “You’d think she’d at least say bye or something.”

“Or something,” Chat Noir said. Marinette could try to slip away, but if there was one thing cats were good at, it was hunting down mice. “I’ll catch you later. Let me know about training.”

Red waved him off, collecting her Lucky Charm, but he thought he caught a small smile before she turned her face.

Chat Noir put the fight from his mind as he scanned the street, his enhanced eyes taking in every little detail, and… there! A flash of pink, one of Multimouse’s straggling doubles making for her.

He took to the roofs and gables that lined the street and followed the tiny darting figure back to an alley. Silently, Chat Noir slipped down to a balcony a little ways from the deepest shadows. Moments later a pink flash lit the inside the alley, illuminating both Marinette and, sure enough, Salem.

He watched, his tail practically twitching, as his friend handed back the Miraculous and made for the exit at the other end of the alley. He waited until she’d turned the corner and dropped nearly on top of Salem, using his forearm to pin the guardian to the wall.

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” Salem managed to splutter. He grabbed Chat Noir’s arm but wasn’t able to pull it away.

“We wouldn’t have to if you’d been straightforward from the beginning,” Chat Noir hissed. “You’ve been keeping something from me.”

“I told you…everything,” Salem gasped. Chat Noir eased up, but not enough for Salem to gain any purchase.

“She gave you the tablet along with the box, didn’t she,” Chat Noir demanded. “ _Didn’t she_?”

“There was a tablet,” Salem admitted, “Yes, but it slipped my mind.”

“ _Slipped your mind_?”

“It was easily the least exciting thing that happened that night,” Salem snapped. “Forgive me for being distracted. If you wanted it all you had to do was ask. It’s no use to me anyway. She said I’d know what to do with it, but I can’t even get it unlocked.”

Chat Noir’s ears went flat against his head. “You said she didn’t say anything else that night.”

“I said she didn’t have any other message for you,” Salem said, finally managing to shove Chat Noir off him. He dropped back to the street and straightened his jacket. “But she said a lot of other things.”

“Things like what,” Chat Noir said through gritted teeth.

“As though I remember,” Salem scoffed, but Chat Noir again got the feeling Salem was evading the question. “Do you want the tablet or not?”

“Yes,” Chat Noir said. “I do. Tonight.”

“Tonight,” Salem agreed. “I’ll leave it in Gustav Eiffel’s office for you after hours. And next time you have a question, just message Trixx.”

Chat Noir was about to leave, but paused. “Trixx?”

“I’m…borrowing them,” Salem said. “For now.”

“The Miraculous aren’t to be used for personal reasons,” Chat Noir warned. He wasn’t sure what it was about Salem that made him say it, but something told him Salem needed to hear it.

“That’s the problem with you hero types,” Salem said with a shake of his head. “So altruistic. _So good_.”

“And what’s wrong with good?” Chat Noir said.

“It’ll get you caught out, every time,” Salem said as he turned toward the mouth of the alley. “Hawkmoth and his little friends won’t play by your rules. He’ll do whatever it takes to win. Will you?”

Until Salem had asked him, Chat Noir honestly didn’t know. There had always been lines he hadn’t wanted to cross, boundaries he’d been careful to maintain. He knew that they created a weakness, but to him, and to his Lady, the end didn’t justify the means.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back,” Chat Noir said. It was the best he had.

“That’s not the same thing as winning,” Salem said, pausing at the corner of the building.

But Chat Noir only shrugged. “It is to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-o! Just a quick, friendly reminder that if you're ~confident~ in your Red or Salem guess to please either message me personally or keep it to yourself so others can enjoy the story as it unfolds without any spoilers <3 Thank you all so much for your love, I hope these two chapters have made up for the quiet week! <3


	13. Good To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it a date if you're sneaking out and run into each other by accident?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I hope you enjoy this chapter and it answers some questions for you. As always, you can find me on Tumblr @kittinoir <3 Enjoy!

_‘You shouldn’t be here, Chloe.’_

_Beside her, the blonde girl is furiously wiping tears from her eyes as they crouch in the ruins of a bank, as though if she catches them fast enough no one will know she’s crying. To her credit, her lips don’t tremble and her scowl remains firmly in place. Some things never change._

_‘I need to apologize,’ Chloe said. Her fingers curl into fists, clenched in front of her as though she could make her feel her sincerity by sheer force of will. ‘I was…I was wrong. I thought you didn’t trust me. I thought you didn’t like me. I thought you were trying to hurt me by keeping the bee Miraculous from me.’_

_‘I tried to help you, Chloe,’ she said as she peers around the rubble for her foe. ‘I tried to explain it to you. But what you did…It was unforgivable. And even if it wasn’t, I’m not the one you need to ask forgiveness from.’_

_‘How do you apologize to a whole city?’ Chloe cries. She doesn’t bother swiping at her tears anymore. They leave dark tracks down her cheeks and drip off her chin._

_The timing couldn’t be worse, but even now, after everything she’s done, she can’t turn this broken girl away. Something in her wants to try to save Chloe - to save everyone. It always has. It’s going to get her killed. She knows it, but still…_

_‘You’re the mayor’s daughter,’ she says, pulling the blonde after her as they make for better cover. ‘You have influence. Use it to benefit the city.’_

_‘Paris doesn’t want anything from me,’ Chloe says, her voice breaking over a sob. ‘Maybe…I should just leave. Go to New York with my mom.’_

_‘Running away won’t fix anything, Chloe.’ She couldn’t stop the frustration from bleeding into her voice. ‘Doing the right thing is hard. Making amends is hard. The truth is there is no easy fix, but if you don’t face this, the wound will never heal. This one choice will be your legacy. It will define you for the rest of your life.’_

_She sees resolve flash in those pale blue eyes, absent of the malice that’s been known to accompany it. ‘I…I want to make things right. I want to try. Do you…think I can do it?’_

_‘Honestly, what I think doesn’t matter,’ she says. ‘ Do you think you can do it?’_

_‘I know I can,’ Chloe says. ‘And I want to start right now. I want to give you my oath.’_

_‘You want to give me your what?’ she says. She’s known Chloe a long time, and she hasn’t always made sense, but this is beyond the norm._

_‘My oath,’ Chloe repeats. She silently rearranges herself until she’s kneeling, her head bowed. ‘I swear to you, Protector of Paris, that I will dedicate the rest of my life to being better than I have been. I swear to strive for fairness, justice, and…and kindness. I swear to make amends and to face the consequences of my actions. Will you accept?’_

_She stares at Chloe, dumbfounded. She knows the girl is prone to dramatics, but this? She’s just a girl herself; how can she save or condemn this girl?_

_‘I accept,’ she says. She hesitantly lays a hand on the girl’s shoulder. ‘And…I’m sorry for the role I played in what happened.’_

_Chloe’s head snaps up. She can tell that while Chloe blamed her, at least a little, for what happened, she’d never expected an apology. After all, super heroes weren’t supposed to be wrong. They weren’t supposed to make mistakes. She of all people should know that they were only human._

_‘I’ll make you proud,’ Chloe promises, but then she, too, is scanning the rubble. ‘Where is that cat?’_

_Chloe’s question brings her back to the present, making her heart flutter in her chest, as it had been doing for the past three weeks now, ever since that day on Pont Neuf. She was caught in a horrible limbo of anticipating his arrival and fear of him showing up. He’s too reckless. He always has been. One of these days she isn’t going to be able to save him. She’s been having nightmares about it._

_‘On his way,’ she lies easily, risking a peek over a fallen column. ‘He’ll be here any minute.’_

_‘THERE YOU ARE!’_

_The horrifying voice echoes around the destroyed lobby. The two girls whip around to discover the monster has circled around them without them noticing. Before they can run, it raises a pure white staff in their direction. She braces for impact, but it never comes. She opens her eyes to see Chloe standing in front of her, trembling, glowing with suffused white light._

_‘Run,’ Chloe manages to get out. ‘I’ll keep him…busy. You have to go…!’_

_It isn’t the first time Chloe has sacrificed herself to save her, but it’s always a surprise when it happens. In this moment, she knows why her partner is so generous with the girl. They’re more similar than she thought they could be._

_‘Speak,’ the monster commands, gliding forward._

_Chloe’s back arches and she falls to her knees as the truth is ripped from her. ‘I’m afraid I’ll fail again,’ she gasps, fingers curling into claws on the cold marble floor. ‘I’m terrified that evil is my nature, that it’s a part of me, and I’m afraid it’s all I’m capable of.’_

_She scrambles back, away from Chloe and the horror unfolding before her. She dives behind more wreckage as Chloe continues to spew truths, from the mundane to deep, personal thoughts no one deserved to hear. She starts to make for the stairs when she feels the bolt strike her right between the shoulder blades. It feels like being run through with lightning._

_She falls, sprawling across the floor. She pushes herself onto her back in time to see Veritas gliding around Chloe as though the girl isn’t even there. She knows what the monster is going to say next. She knows what she will tell it._

_‘Small truths!’ Chloe shouts, crawling forward. ‘Pick something insignificant, or useless!’_

_But before she can, the monster commands her. ‘Speak.’_

_A thousand secrets howl up, so fast she almost can’t stop them from spilling out. For a moment, she struggles silently as they vie for dominance. It’s all she can do to pick one. ‘I’m never able to tell the boy I love how I feel about him because I’m more afraid of being with him than rejection,’ she spits out, a blush warming her cheeks even under the mask. ‘I’m terrified of having everything just to lose it because of the secrets because I can never tell him who I am.’_

_‘Good,’ Chloe coaches, but then she shivers. ‘I push everyone away on purpose so they never have a chance to leave. I make sure it’s always my choice.’_

_‘Sometimes I wish I’d never been chosen for this,’ she says, spring-boarding off her last truth as she struggles to her feet. ‘It’s - it’s too much. It’s killing me.’ She backs up slowly, the ripping magic of the Akuma making it impossible to move quickly. Her muscles have locked with the pain of it. The truth really did hurt._

_‘I…’ She gasps, trying to swallow the words as she pulls out her yo-yo with shaking hands. ‘I’m in love with… with my partner.’ Tears are streaming down her face, now, too. She bites back his name, but she can tell she won’t stop it. Seconds, maybe minutes. She will say it. And her name will be right behind it. ‘I’m in love with Chat Noir. Everything finally… makes sense. I’m not confused anymore. I love him.’_

_She lashes out with the yo-yo, aiming for staff where she knows the akuma is hiding. Veritas manages to dodge her strike, and the magic surges again._

_‘I…I know…’ she slaps a hand over her mouth, stifling the words. Suddenly Veritas is there. He seizes her wrist with one hand, wrenching it to the side. When she tries to strike him, he grabs that wrist as well. In three strides she is pinned to the nearest wall, the monster’s hideous glowing face inches from her own. She presses her lips together, shaking her head, eyes squeezed shut._

_‘Speak’. She hears the monsters' voice inside her head, ringing like a bell. It’s irresistible._

_‘I know,’ she breathes, ‘I know who Chat Noir is. I know his name, his real identity. I discovered it by accident three weeks ago and I never told him. I didn’t know what to do about it. I know who he is.’_

_Veritas grins, and it sends shivers crawling down her spine. This is it. This is the beginning of the end. But she won’t betray him. Not until it’s the very last secret she has._

_'Speak.'_

_'My name,’ she says, her voice catching on a sob, ‘…my name is Ma - ’_

_‘CATACLYSM!’_

Marinette sat straight up in bed as she came suddenly and violently awake, clutching at her chest, panting with the pain of the pounding of her heart. Images of the nightmare crashed through her out of order. Hadn’t Chloe been in it? That was nothing new, but it had been…well, over a year since since she’d had one of those. And one of those akuma’s had been in it, too. That was no surprise, what with the events of that afternoon.

Marinette brushed her fingers along the hollow of her throat where the mouse Miraculous had sat. The fight had been terrifying, but for the first time in weeks she felt…whole.

Even in the dark, she felt like her face was glowing. ‘Whole’? She wasn’t broken. She was just…a normal girl, with a normal life.

But still… she liked who she was when she’d been wearing the mask. She’d liked being able to help, and she liked being able to control her fears. And teaming up with Chat Noir…

Marinette shoved the thought from her head as she untangled her legs from the twisted sheets and climbed down to the floor of her room. She had successfully avoided thinking about how that encounter made her feel right up until her subconscious had ambushed her with it while she slept, but that didn’t mean she was going to unpack that now. Besides, it wasn’t like she even knew him.

Silver moonlight shone through the windows, giving her just enough light to see by. She headed for he sink and the glass she left there. She filled it with cool water and sipped at it, but her face still felt flush. Her pulse had slowed, but she still felt jumpy, edgy, restless. She needed to get out. She needed fresh air.

She briefly considered the balcony, but it was too small. She needed to _move_.

Before she could think of all the reasons why she should just try to go back to bed, Marinette threw a sweater around her shoulders, grabbed her phone from the desk, and slipped through the trap door. She made her way carefully down the stairs, avoiding the spots she knew were squeaky and straight-up tip-toeing past her parents’ room, a move which nearly made her knock over the book shelf in the front-entry.

She picked up the pace once she was on the stairs that lead down to the bakery, and in moments she was out on the street. Lamplight glistened off the wet cobblestones stones. Marinette tugged her sweater tighter around herself in the chill and started towards the park.

Marinette wondered briefly why she didn’t feel worse - or anything, really - about sneaking out in the middle of the night. Maybe it was left-over confidence from the afternoon’s fight. Maybe she just felt safe knowing Chat Noir and Ladybug were out there. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel dangerous. In fact, it felt familiar.

The sound of water echoed softly around the park as Marinette set foot in it. She could see the fountain in the middle, lit by several small lights. It was otherwise abandoned, but she blinked, and for a moment she could see Adrien and his photographer by that same fountain, feel Manon clinging to her leg as Alya gushed by her side. That had been in the early days, when her crush was new. She blinked and the memory faded, but the warmth of it stayed.

She’d though she loved him then. Maybe she had. She didn’t know. All she knew was that what she felt now was a million times stronger. She’d never used to believe in soulmates, but…she didn’t know any more. If they existed, she was sure Adrien was hers.

So why the mixed feelings on Chat Noir? Where had they come from? Was it just her heart fluttering over a cute guy? The intimidation of a super hero? She couldn’t place it, but they felt rooted in something real, like she could see past the mask to the person underneath. But that, of course, was just arrogance. She saw whatever he wanted her and the rest of Paris to see. She was imagining something that wasn’t there. Her feelings for Adrien were spilling over to someone else just as unattainable. That was it.

“Bit late to be wandering out here alone, Mousinette.”

Marinette whirled. There, standing a few feet away as though her embarrassing reflection had summoned him, was Chat Noir. He was leaning on his baton as though he he didn’t have a care in the world, smirking at her like he knew what she’d been thinking.

“Looks as though the cat’s already caught me,” Marinette said, turning back around.

“And what better company to have,” he quipped, falling into step beside her. She could feel him eyeing her without trying to make it look obvious. “Unless you’re out here to be alone…?”

“No,” Marinette said, glancing up at him. “No, just needed some fresh air. Bad dreams.”

“Oh. Want to - I mean, do you need to talk about it?

“Not really,” Marinette said. She frowned in thought. “Actually, I can barely remember it. Something about an akuma I think.”

“I’m surprised you’d have nightmares like that,” Chat Noir said as they rounded a corner, “Considering the butt-kicking you gave Weeping Willow earlier.”

Marinette was glad for the cold air on her cheeks and the darkness of the night. “It was hardly a butt-kicking. You and Ladybug did all the work, I just…ran interference.”

“Well, it was the difference between winning and losing,” he admitted softly. “Are you joining the team then?”

Marinette shook her head. “One-time deal. I gave the Miraculous back to Salem. He seemed nervous about giving it out. I can see why.”

“Ladybug was the same way,” Chat Noir murmured. She glanced up at him, but a shadow had fallen across his face.

“She’s more lenient now?” Marinette asked.

“Hmm?” Chat Noir blinked and looked down at her. The two of them stepped into a shaft of moonlight and he suddenly froze, reaching out to take hold of her arm .

“Chat…Chat Noir?” Marinette’s heart was pounding in her ears. She could feel her blood rushing in her finger tips, and for a moment…well, for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her.

“Sorry,” he said, abruptly dropping her arm and stepping back. “Just…for a moment you reminded me of someone.”

“In a good way?” Marinette said. Her skin still tingled where he’d touched her. “Or a bad way?”

“Both,” he said with a small smile. “Always both.”

Marinette shivered and pulled her sweater close again as she resumed walking. “What brings you out here at this time of night?” she asked, steering them towards a safer topic. “Surely even heroes deserve to rest?”

“No rest for the wicked,” Chat Noir quipped, giving her a decidedly wicked grin. “But I’m almost done for the night. I just have one more stop to make.”

“Ladies to save?” Marinette teased, recalling his earlier comment.

“Something like that,” he said. “Just a quick stop at the Eiffel tower to pick up a message from a friend.”

“You leave each other messages at the Eiffel Tower?” Marinette said with a giggle.

Chat Noir smiled. “When the occasion calls for it.”

“You don’t have to wait for me or anything if you’ve got somewhere to be,” Marinette said, though it was the last thing she wanted to do. “It’s not far to home.”

“I’ll rest easier knowing you made it back safe,” he said, twirling his baton between his fingers. “Besides, how else will I get a sneak peek at that dress you’re modelling after me?”

Marinette’s mouth popped open. “You won’t!” she said indignantly as she began to circle back towards her home. “Besides, you won’t even like it right now.”

“I find that incredibly hard to believe,” Chat Noir said with an added eye roll.

“It’s currently a muslin mock-up,” she explained, trying to trace the shape in the air with her hands. “It barely even looks like a dress.”

“Hmmm.” He frowned, as though faced with a life-or-death dilemma. “But I want to see it.”

Marinette shrugged. “If you really want, I can leave it in the window at night and you can, um, sneak a peek when you patrol. I just can’t leave it there in the day because the sun will fade the black over time, and I know it’s not a lot of time, but still, I want to use the blackest-black I can find, because your suit is like that, and it might be a while before I find anything because those little honey-combs are so specific and I really want to incorporate them in my feline - I MEAN MY DESIGN - plus a lot of the changes are structural so it might not even look like I’ve made any progress on it - ”

“You’d do that just because I asked?” he finally interrupted her. Marinette blinked up at him, trying to gather her scattered thoughts.

“Um, yeah,” she said, hooking a piece of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “It’s not a big deal. It’s actually pretty flattering. And, um, I don’t mind.”

“I’m the one who’s flattered,” he said softly. “Who else could say they had a Marinette Dupain-Cheng original designed after them?” And then he swept forward in a bow at the waist, lifting her hand to his lips. It was a small kiss, the barest brush of his mouth against the skin of her hand, but the electricity of it prickled over Marinette’s skin, making her heart race for the third time that night.

“Good night,” Marinette whispered as Paris’ hero slowly straightened again. “Thank you for the company.”

“It was my pleasure,” he purred. All she could see was the glowing green of those eyes and the thousands of secrets he was hiding in them.

Marinette swallowed hard and made herself turn for her home. She could feel Chat Noir’s eyes on her the whole time, but when she paused at the door to look back, he had disappeared. She slipped inside, making sure to lock the door behind her and stumbled briefly to the bakery before heading back to her room.

True to her word, she slide the mannequin with the muslin mock up on it in front of the window. Then she cracked the window and set the plate of cookies she’d snagged on the window ledge - just in case.

‘ _I’m being ridiculou_ s,’ she thought as she climbed back into bed. ‘ _Absolutely ridiculous_.’ He wasn’t going to come, she tried to tell herself. He’d just been being nice to the girl that had helped them that afternoon. He flirted with everyone. She wasn’t special. She wasn’t. But she didn’t go back down and close the window.

The next morning, when Marinette finally woke up, the plate was empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This credit is over-due, but I definitely wanted to include (and give you guys a laugh!) I read this comic by Buggachat a few months ago and it gave me the idea for the main conflict of this fic. I've included the link for you guys to enjoy and to give credit where credit it due <3
> 
> https://buggachat.tumblr.com/post/611438660366270464/its-been-too-long-since-i-made-my-last-comic


	14. The Wall Between Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson voice: 'If ya don't know, now ya know'

Chat Noir was on the edge, and Marinette - _Marinette_ \- had walked him there.

Alright, technically he’d been the one escorting her, but still. It was just supposed to be a chat and a walk. A stroll, even. Easy breezy. He’d shoot her a few compliments, impress his already impressive classmate, get a few minutes reprieve from this constant search, and carry on his way to the Tower.

And literally the first thing he did was call her Mousinette. Again. Like he couldn’t even remember how to be cool around her, like the second he opened his mouth his brain shut off.

And the damn moonlight. Moonlight. He was having a tough enough go of it without the moonlight playing tricks on him, making him see things… making him see people who weren’t there. He’d known, though, when he’d thought he’d seen the similarities, why he was so drawn to Marinette, the reason he kept swinging by her place when it was off the beaten path: she reminded him so much of his Lady that it hurt, but in the moments in between the ache it was almost like she was there again.

He’d seen those similarities before, of course, before Multimouse had appeared. After that, he just assumed their similarities were the reason they were friends. Perhaps Ladybug was a classmate from elementary school who had gone to a different high school. He just didn’t know. He’d run through the list of girls at Francois Dupont and none of them had matched up. He didn’t know if he was disappointed or happy about that.

And having to use his baton as a tool to keep his hands occupied, because he’d known if left unattended his fingers would somehow find their way laced with hers.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered as he scaled the beams of the Eiffel Tower, slipping between the shadows cast by the numerous lights. “Absolutely ridiculous.” She was his friend. She’d said so numerous times. Just his friend. And he had no right to take advantage of that because he was hurting. After all, he knew how she felt about Chat Noir. It wasn’t fair of him.

But he wondered when flirting slipped into sincerity, because as he made his way to the top of the Tower, he found himself thinking about what would have happened if he hadn’t reached for his baton. If he had slipped his fingers through Marinette’s, if he had offered to bring her with him to see the sights, if he had kissed more than just the back of her hand. If, if, if.

Marinette…she’d never felt like just a friend to him, but even then he knew she deserved better than someone who was in love with someone else. She deserved someone who was sure and devoted. Maybe he could be that for her one day, but not this day. He wouldn’t make her wait for him to figure it out.

Chat Noir paused to catch his breath as he finally reached the top of the Tower and Eiffel’s office. Anticipation buzzed in his blood like a swarm of bees, but still he waited. All the answers he sought could be on the other side of that door. If he was lucky, he was minutes away from discovering his Lady, though luck had always been her domain. At the worst, at least he had the grimoire back - a piece of her back. Something she had held, something they had worked on together. Something to remind him she was real on the nights he woke in a cold sweat afraid he had only ever dreamed her.

Bracing himself, Chat Noir strode the rest of the way to the office and through the door. The room was organized chaos, arranged for tour groupS, but it wasn’t hard to find the tablet. Annoyed as he was, he had to laugh: Salem had stuck the tablet in Gustav’s hand like he was designing another architectural masterpiece on it.

Part of him wanted to drop to the floor there and search for the clues he thought might be there, but he knew that one way or the other, when he opened it, he wouldn’t be moving for a while. Besides he wanted Plagg’s input, if his kwami could give him any.

That had been a particularly rough day, the day he remembered Plagg had known who Ladybug was because they’d destransformed in front of their kwamis. He’d begged Plagg for a name, a hint, anything. And Plagg hadn’t been able to give him anything because she was a former Black Cat Miraculous holder. He’d argued it had been for less than half an hour, a mistake, a technicality. Plagg had said it didn’t matter, he couldn’t say her name. He tried. Bubbles appeared, floating up and popping on the ceiling of his room, her name trapped inside where he couldn’t hear it.

That was the first time he cried. The first time he felt truly hopeless, that despite everything, he wasn’t smart enough to find her, and even if he was, the world was conspiring against him to keep him from her. Every time he thought he might be close, she slipped through his fingers like smoke. He cried mostly from the frustration, but he also cried from the unfairness of it all. They were heroes. They had sacrificed everything for their city. They gave up everything and asked for nothing in return. Didn’t they deserve happiness?

It was also the last time he’d cried. There would be time for tears later, after he had set everything back to right. Besides, he wielded the power of destruction: if the universe was unwise enough to have placed a wall between them, he would turn it to dust in the wind.

The trip home was slow-going. Chat Noir wished he’d thought to bring a bag with him to carry the tablet in, but he hadn’t, so he had to carry it under his arm. He did stop briefly at Marinette’s, frowning when he saw the window was open. Why did this girl insist on inviting trouble into her life? But he couldn’t be too sore about it when he saw she’d already pushed the dress form in front of the window and that the reason it was open was because she’d placed a small plate of cookies on the sill for him. Her kindness tugged at his heart. It always had. It was one of those qualities he’d always adored. Er, admired. Liked. As a friend. It was rare, and it wasn’t always easy, but it just seemed to be her nature.

She was right about the dress, though. It didn’t look like much yet, but he was glad for the excuse to come by, to be able to find his Lady in Marinette, a least for a little while, even if it wasn’t real. To feel the echoes of her.

By the time Chat Noir finally reached home the sky was beginning to turn the dark purple of a a fresh bruise, fading to raspberry red near the horizon. It had been a full night, a good night, but it wasn’t over yet.

“Plagg, claws in.”

The kwami burst forth in a flash of green light, spinning towards the mini fridge where Adrien stocked the camembert.

“Busy day, kid,” Plagg sighed, digging into an entire wheel of cheese. “I don’t trust this Salem character. Did you get the tablet?”

“I did,” Adrien said, plugging it in beside his bed before stripping off his shirt. “Doesn’t look like any damage has been done to it. I think Salem was telling the truth about not being able to unlock it.”

“Finally some good news.” Plagg licked his whiskers as he pulled a second wheel of cheese towards him. “And what about that little detour?”

“Detour?” Adrien repeated as he pulled on his pyjamas. “Oh. You mean Marinette. It was nothing. Civic duty, that’s all.” He turned his back to the kwami, hoping Plagg wouldn’t see his blush in the dark.

“You’re in love with that girl, Adrien,” Plagg said behind him.

“I am not,” Adrien said quickly, but his heart was fluttering. “She’s…she’s just a friend. She’s made that very clear. Besides, I’m in love with Ladybug.”

“You’re in love with her,” Plagg insisted. Adrien could hear him drifting closer.

“It doesn’t matter!” Adrien exploded. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about Marinette, ok! How I feel about anything doesn’t matter at all. I have to find Ladybug. That’s the most important thing right now. So please, Plagg, just…drop it.”

“I’m sorry, Adrien, I…” Plagg floated around to his face. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I know,” Adrien said softly. “I know you are. I’m sorry I yelled, I just… Any sign of Tikki?”

Plagg shook his head. “None. She and LB might have come up with this plan together. On the other hand, Red might be keeping her captive, like Nooroo. If Red’s refused to let her leave, Tikki wouldn’t be able to, but it seems unlikely. I’m with you on getting LB back, but Red doesn’t seem the cruel type.”

“I agree,” Adrien said, dropping onto his bed. “We’ll keep an eye out, though, just in case.” He reached for the tablet. As he pulled it onto his lap, he could see his own reflection in the dark screen. Empty green eyes stared back at him.

“Ready, kid?” Plagg said softly.

Adrien shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m more afraid of: finding answers or finding nothing.”

“You’re not alone,” Plagg reminded him. Adrien nodded. He took a deep breath and punched in the code - the date he and Ladybug had become Paris’s protectors. The tablet took a few minutes to boot up from lack of use, but in minutes the familiar home screen was displayed. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the notes app opened up, as though whoever had used the tablet last had forcibly shut it down knowing it would be recovered when it was turned on again.

_‘Dearest Adrien,_ ’

“I guess Salem was telling the truth about that as well,” Plagg murmured as he read over Adrien’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Adrien said, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I mean, we knew it was possible, but…she never brought it up.” He bit his lip, the words blurring before his eyes. His Lady had written this note. She’d left it for him. She hadn’t abandoned him. He hadn’t realized until that moment how afraid he was that she had.

_‘Dearest Adrien,_

_You can’t know how sorry I am to do this to you. I know you will feel betrayed by the choice I make tonight, but I hope this note will give you some comfort in the coming days. I’ve tried to think of a better solution, but this is the only way I can think to protect you._

_By now you must have realized that I know your identity. I discovered it by accident that day on the Pont Neuf when you fell into the Seine. I should have told you, I know, but I was afraid of the consequences. I was afraid you would try to give up your Miraculous, and afraid I wouldn’t be able to accept it. I know our responsibilities as the guardians, but I can’t win this fight without you._

_Another confession: when we fought Veritas a few days ago, I admitted I knew your identity. I didn’t reveal it. Please know it would have been the last secret, the very last truth Hawkmoth would have wrung from me. Unfortunately the admission was enough; a sentimonster cornered me on patrol today and tried to get your name. They were unsuccessful, but it’s only a matter of time. Hawkmoth is becoming more clever with his akuma’s. This knowledge is too dangerous to keep._

_That’s why I’ve decided to give it up._

_I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough. But I know if I shared my plan that you would try to stop me, and I know that I would let you, because leaving you is the last thing I want to do. Giving up Ladybug is the last thing I want to do. But I believe it’s the best way I can continue to protect our city._

_I know you will try to find me. It’s that thought that gives me the courage to follow through with my decision. I have to admit restoring my memories is not part of my plan. I don’t know if it’s even possible, but I know you will try to find a way, once it’s safe, if only to tell me how foolish I’ve been. In this I place myself in your hands._

_Until then, I renounce our shared guardianship of the Miracle box and entrust you to be its’ sole protector. I know it could not be in more capable hands. I know the responsibility I have placed on you is enormous, but I there is no one else I trust as much._

_Adrien - Chat Noir - I love you. I always have, I just didn’t always know it. I wish we had more time. If love was enough, I’d still be here. But giving it up is the only way I know to protect you and our city. I hope you can forgive me, but I couldn’t hold it against you if you can’t. I know I’m asking a lot - maybe too much. I hope when you remember me it is with some fondness. I will miss you every day, though I may not know it. I hope we find each other again some day._

_All my love,_  
_Forever Your Lady_

Tears slid down Adrien’s face and dripped onto his hands. He let them. They were coming too fast to stop anyway. He doubted he would ever be able to stop.

“Oh, kid.” Plagg curled up on Adrien’s shoulder, the smallest rumble of a purr emanating from his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“She…loves me,” Adrien managed, tracing a finger over the words. “She really does.”

“She really does,” Plagg echoed softly. “You were right about all of it.”

A sob broke from his chest. “I doubted her,” he said. “I thought horrible things. I resented her.”

“You had moments of weakness,” Plagg corrected. “Anyone would. She knew that, too. Although from the sounds of it she expected you to see this message a lot sooner.”

Adrien read the line again to himself: _'I renounce our shared guardianship of the Miracle box and entrust you to be its’ sole protector._ ’ So how had it ended up in Salem’s hands? Right then he found he didn’t even care. She loved him. She trusted him. She was counting on him. They were still a team.

The sun had spilled over the horizon, gilding the city in gold when Adrien finally lay down to rest. By then he had memorized her note. He knew he’d never forget it as long as he lived, whether he found her again or not. But he would, he promised himself as he drifted off to sleep. He’d spend the rest of his life searching for her, chasing the echoes of his Lady through the streets of Paris, if only to restore what she’d lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, full disclosure, I fully intended to have the whole 'Plagg knows Marinette is LB' play into this story much sooner and then it got away from me, so please accept this tidbit as a peace offering XD


	15. You Still Haunt The Corners Of My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir sees a ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it friends, this is rock bottom. This is as low as I can possibly go. If you're super invested in this story and these characters, I have to warn you, this is going to be a hard chapter. 
> 
> Happy one month-a-versary of Echoes of You!

“Ow!”

Marinette glared at her hand as a ruby red drop of blood welled up on her finger. She stuck her needle aimlessly into her mannequin and made for the sink. She rinsed her hand in cool water before pulling her first aide kit out of the drawer. It had been a joke gift from Alya for her last birthday, but she’d found herself pulling it out more frequently than she cared to admit. She’d even already restocked the bandaids. Twice. Not, of course, that she’d ever tell Alya that.

“That’s what I get for forgoing the thimble I guess,” Marinette mumbled as she wrapped the pink bandage around her finger. It wasn’t strictly necessary, she knew, but the last thing she wanted was to get blood on the dress.

It was finally starting to come together. She’d pulled extra shifts in the bakery to purchase the expensive fabric. When she was close to affording it she’d accidentally let slip to Chat Noir in one of his passing visits how much it was going to cost and had woken to an empty plate, an envelope stuffed with what she thought was far too much money, and a note telling her to ‘have more fun with it - it’s what Chat Noir would want’. She’d left the envelope with the plate for a week after that but he’d stubbornly left it there every night. She’d only accepted it when he’d told her to think of it as compensation for the treats she kept leaving for him. She hadn’t wanted to fight him on it, so she’d altered the skirt to include a long, flowing ‘mermaid tail’. She had to admit, it did look more stunning than the modest fit and flare she’d originally designed. The main feature, however, was the keyhole Mandarin collar where a small bell glinted in the late afternoon light. She smiled softly as she recalled how Chat Noir’s laugh had woken her from a light sleep the first time he’d seen it. A halter silhouette with a low back added a hint of bare skin where she’d decided to forgo the slit up the skirt, and bright green piping brought a pop of colour to the gown. In truth, it had quickly become one of her favourite designs.

And not, she promised herself, because it had anything to do with frequent visits from a certain super hero.

Shaking the sting from her finger, Marinette began to head back over to her mannequin and the lining she’d been sewing in when her phone chimed an alert. She paused in the middle of her room, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Sure enough, an akuma alert was displayed on the lock screen, warning all civilians to vacate the Musée de la Vie Romantique and surrounding area.

Marinette looked up through her window, across the Seine as though she could see the monster all the way across the city. The Musée was a nearly an hours walk away, but she knew that meant little when it came to these attacks. She was safe in her home right now, but the fight could be at their door in moments if they were unlucky.

Marinette slid her phone back into her pocket and returned to her dress, tugging it out of the window and the sunlight. Another alert went off, but she ignored it; she recognized the chime Alya had programmed for when she was going live for the Ladyblog. She could only watch those videos long after she knew the heroes had won and her friend was safe.

Midnight-black thread glistened as Marinette retrieved her needle and began hand-stitching the lining back down the inside of the bodice. The key-hole design was one of her favourite elements, but damn if those curves weren’t tricky. Tricky enough to keep her focused at least, she thought, instead of worrying about what was happening - even if her fingers were shaking.

But her focus was shattered when, minutes later, a tiny red bird flew through her window and crash-landed on her desk, rolling across the dozens of pictures she’d printed out for inspiration (and only inspiration- even if one of them had ended up pinned to the board beside her bed).

Marinette whirled, dropping the needle altogether to let it dangle from its’ tail. She had to get that bird out of her room before it destroyed her perfectly organized chaos.

Except, she realized as she lunged for it, it wasn’t destroying anything. It wasn’t moving. It didn’t even have wings. As a matter of fact, the bird wasn’t a bird at all.

“Marinette.” The little red creature sat up, something sparkling in her paws. “I… Ladybug and Chat Noir need your help.”

Marinette knelt down beside her desk. Deja vu. She was getting that deja vu feeling, like a wave sweeping over her, like she hadn’t even known she was off-kilter until her world had been settled back on its’ axis.

“You’re…you’re Ladybug’s kwami, aren’t you?” Marinette breathed, unblinking.

The tiny red creature nodded. “My name is Tikki.” She didn’t bother to elaborate, but instead seemed distracted by the room, as though stunned to find herself there.

“Is Ladybug ok?” Marinette asked, glancing at the jewels Tikki was carrying. “Is she hurt? Is Chat Noir - ”

“Ladybug is ok, but she can’t fight,” Tikki said. “We need you. Will you help?” The tiny kwami lifted her paws, and for the first time Marinette realized they were a pair of plain black stud earrings. They reminded her of a pair she knew she had lying around somewhere because she’d seen them in pictures but hadn’t been able to find in the past few weeks. It had been annoying because she couldn’t seem to find any other pairs of earrings lying around, either.

“If you’re sure…I will,” Marinette said. She held out her hand and Tikki gently placed the earrings in her upturned palm.

“Thank you, Marinette.” The kwami suddenly swirled up and pressed herself to Marinette’s chest in a hug. Marinette stiffened in surprised, but cupped her free hand around Tikki, returning the gesture. Mullo hadn’t been so affectionate, but she had been just as unpredictable.

“You can count on me,” Marinette promised as Tikki drifted back.

“I know,” Tikki said. The poor thing must be worried sick about her owner. “When you’re ready, say ‘spots on’. That will trigger the transformation. The rest is in your yo-yo. We should hurry; we don’t have much time.”

Marinette nodded. “I understand. Tikki, spots on!”

A pink flash lit the room, brighter than when she’d become Multimouse. It only lasted moments, but when she was done, she found herself staring at a familiar face in the mirror.

“I look like that girl,” Ladybug said, tugging at the fabric of the suit. “The one in the photo from Alya’s blog. I guess it’s the base model.” She hoped it would be enough to deal with whatever she was about to face.

Ladybug unslung the yo-yo from around her waist, sliding it open as she climbed through her skylight and onto her balcony. One-time power, miraculous cure, features of the suit. Check, check, check. She snapped the yo-yo shut and once again looked out over the city in the direction she knew the akuma had last been spotted. Bracing herself, Ladybug swung out with her yo-yo and stepped off her balcony.

 _Natural_. That was the word that came to mind as she swung through the streets of Paris. She was so clumsy she was sure there’d be some learning curve, but it felt like second-nature to her, like she’d been doing it forever, like she’d been born to wear these earrings.

She saw the fight before she heard it. Flashes of white and purple, and black and gold clashed on the street. She recognized Chat Noir. The other one must be the akuma.

But the strange thing was the silence. Aside from the sound of feet skittering across the pavement, the road was absolutely silent. Ladybug could see people staggering around the street, but there were no screams of terror, no shouts for help. Even Chat Noir was quiet as he attacked, again and again and again.

A flash of orange caught her eye and Ladybug spotted Alya crouching on a rooftop, phone out as she recorded. Ladybug altered her course, dropping gracefully to the roof beside her friend.

“Glad you see you staying out of the way,” Ladybug murmured as she began to assess the fight. She ducked as the akuma abruptly glanced up to where she had landed, but Chat Noir quickly distracted him again. Alya started beside her, but her face lit up. “Can you catch me up?”

“Thank god you’re here,” Alya whispered. “Double whammy day: the Akuma down there is muting everyone, stealing their voice. They can’t talk. Chat Noir was hit before he could activate his cataclysm. He’s in real rough shape.”

Ladybug frowned. “Like Silencer?”

Alya nodded. “Same idea, but it’s not using voices to talk. It hasn’t even said a word, it just started attacking.”

“Got it.” Ladybug stood, retrieving her yo-yo. Lucky Charm now? Or should she save it?

“Wait!” Alya’s hand shot up, grabbing her wrist. “There’s a senti-monster, too. Small, looks like a song-bird. It confuses people, dazes them. That’s why no one’s run away. It disappeared, but it’s still flying around here somewhere.”

“Right,” Ladybug said, filing that away. “Good. Great. If one monster is good, two must be better.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Ladybug said with what she hoped was a confident smile. “I know better than to tell you to hide. Stay safe, Alya.”

“Will do,” Alya promised. “Maybe after I can get an exclusive, we can talk about what’s up with the suit?”

“Uh, sure!” Ladybug said quickly. “We’ll see how it goes. No promises.”

“Fair enough,” Alya said. “Good luck!”

Ladybug took one more look at the fight below, then swung down into the street before she could make any other stupid promises. She made it just in time, swinging between Chat Noir and the akuma and deflecting a blow that had gotten up under his guard.

She released her yo-yo at the peak of the upswing, landing in an offensive crouch on the side of the street.

“Sorry I’m late, Kitty,” she said, locking eyes with the akuma. “I guess we’ll have to save the small-talk for later.”

The akuma glared at her and seemed to deem her a bigger threat. He lunged towards her, and as she slipped from his grasp to land a blow of her own on the back of his head, she could see he had no mouth. She landed and swept a foot out to knock him down. The akuma dodged, dancing away.

“You ok?” Ladybug asked. She threw a glance over her shoulder, but froze at what she saw.

Tears were streaming down Chat Noir’s face, but he seemed unaware of them as he stared at her. His mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out. He took one staggering step towards her, one hand reaching out. His eyes went wide and he suddenly leapt, tackling her to the ground.

As they rolled, she saw the akuma sail over their heads, right where she’d been standing. With Chat Noir’s body pressed to hers, she could feel sobs shuddering through his chest. When they finally came to a stop, Ladybug pushed herself up and stared at her temporary partner. His voice had definitely been stolen, but even so, she could make out two words on his lips: ‘My Lady.’

“It’s ok,” she said, thumbing away a tear. “I’m sorry for what that monster did to you. I’m going to fix it.”

She stood, pulling Chat Noir to his feet. He seemed to have regained some composure and his eyes narrowed on a speck over the akuma’s shoulder.

“Senti-monster?” Ladybug said. He nodded. “Keep him busy for me?”

Like a few nights before, Chat Noir snagged her hand, bringing it up to his lips in a quick kiss before pouncing for the bird-like monster. Ladybug could only watch, surprised, swearing she could feel it burning through the back of her hand.

The akuma shied away at the sudden movement. Ladybug didn’t waste the opportunity.

“Lucky Charm!” She snatched the spotted object out of the air. “A dog whistle? Ah!”

Ladybug dove out of the way as the akuma struck out at her. She managed to dodge, but he caught her foot, sending her sprawling across the pavement. The dog whistle skittered across the pavement. It rolled to a stop mere inches from a sewer grate. Her earrings began to beep.

“Five minutes,” Ladybug muttered, “Ok. I can do this. Figure out the dog whistle. Don’t get zapped or I won’t be able to activate the magic ladybug things. Easy.”

She glanced towards the whistle. Before she could reach for it the akuma was back on her. Ladybug managed to avoid its touch but wasn’t able to land any of her own. As with the mouse, she was amazed at the way she was able to anticipate the monsters’ attacks, how she could see between his guard. Her speed and reflexes were also enhanced, but they made her even with the akuma. She had to slow him down.

Suddenly the akuma broke away, whipping around toward another building. Ladybug followed his line of sight just in time to see a slight shadow vanish in a doorway. She didn’t know how, but somehow the akuma had sensed whoever was hiding there.

Her earring beeped again - 4 minutes. The akuma whipped back around and a lightbulb went off in her head.

“You can _hear_ them,” Ladybug said as she sparred with the monster. He scowled; she was on the right track. “You can’t talk but your hearing is heightened.” The dog whistle!

The akuma shoved her, hard. Ladybug stumbled back, bracing for an attack that didn’t come. Tinkling like wind chimes fluttered on the breeze. Ladybug felt her shoulders relax as the hard lines of the akuma in front of her began to soften. Her earring beeped again. The akuma reached for her.

A high-pitched whine sliced through the chimes. A _bang_ exploded near Ladybug’s ear as Chat Noir’s baton whipped by within inches of her head. Her vision cleared, and she saw the bird-like senti-monster go sailing before exploding into thousands of pastel feathers. A single indigo feather drifted down slower than the rest, almost hovering.

Beside her, Chat Noir nodded to the feather before rounding on the akuma. Ladybug quickly snagged it with her yoyo, releasing the purified feather into the air. She looked back at the fight, but her partner had the akuma well in hand. He was being reckless, buying her time. It tugged at her heart, but her mind knew the damage had already been done.

Ladybug snatched up the dog whistle as her earrings beeped again. Two minutes. Two minutes to wrap this up and find a safe place to drop her transformation. She was out of time.

Whirling back towards the two, Ladybug blew long and hard on the whistle. Chat Noir flinched, his ears going flat against his head, but the akuma fell to his knees, covering his ears in agony. Chat Noir immediately struck out with his baton. She stopped whistling when she heard something shatter.

A dark purple butterfly fluttered up as the villain dissolved into a boy a little older than her. Ladybug snapped up the butterfly in her yoyo. She watched as a pure white butterfly emerged, cleansed. “Bye-bye, little butterfly.”

The earrings beeped one more time, her final warning, jerking her back to reality. She had to go. Now.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” She flung the dog whistle into the air. It burst into thousands of tiny ladybugs, and she used them as cover to sneak away from the scene. She hated to leave without saying goodbye, but if she didn’t go now, Alya was going to catch her detransformation on live video.

Ladybug disappeared into the nearest building and headed straight through to the nearest back door, dodging the stunned people inside. She had to get somewhere private, somewhere… there!

She ducked into a phone booth on the street, gasping as the transformation automatically dissolved and Tikki reappeared, looking exhausted.

“That was close,” Marinette breathed, catching the kwami in her hand. “I don’t think anyone saw me come in though.”

“I’ll check,” Tikki said wearily, hovering a few inches over Marinette’s palm.

“Alya was out there filming,” Marinette warned.

“Kwami’s can’t be filmed,” Tikki said. She disappeared through the wall of the booth in a fall of pink sparkles. Marinette held her breath, waiting for Alya or Chat Noir to rip the door open and demand answers. Minutes passed, but only Tikki reappeared. “The coast is clear.”

“Thanks, Tikki.” Marinette sagged against the side of the booth, feeling her pulse finally slow down for the first time in what felt like hours. “I don’t have any food on me, but if you can stay for a little bit, you can come back home with me. It’s about forty minutes on the metro, but it’s a bakery. Would you like some macarons?”

For the first time, Tikki actually smiled. “Thank you, Marinette. I would love some.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, I'm really sorry. I was sitting down last night, wondering what the most insane thing I could do was, and this was the result. I hope, despite it all, that you enjoyed it. It should be uphill from here (because how could it possibly get worse).


	16. Forgiveness; Can You Imagine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plagg keeps his promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope everyone's had time to recover from the last chapter! This time I decided to let Adrien have some happiness, as a treat.

White noise.

That was all Adrien had seen or heard over the past five days. He missed fencing lessons, Chinese lessons, homework. He’d miss modelling appointments if his bodyguard wasn’t there to escort him. He didn’t know how those went. He barely remembered them once he was home. Plagg called it shock. He didn’t care.

It had been a week since she’d come back, showing up much like she had the first time he’d seen her: falling out of the sky. _Sorry I’m late, Kitty_.

Hope had not claimed him quietly. It had torn through his chest so violently it had brought him to tears for the third time since this nightmare had started. For a moment he’d thought the senti-monster had gotten him and he had confused Red for his Lady.

But no, it had really been her. He’d stared at her, unable to believe she was real, and realized, despite how hard he’d clung to her memory, how much had faded. The exact shade of her eyes with violet flecks no camera could capture. The intelligence in them that always drew him in. The beauty of her smile, the effortlessness of her grace.

In that moment, it had all turned to dust in the wind. He didn’t care that she’d left him. He didn’t care that he’d made a mistake. He didn’t care that he’d been struggling without her. He didn’t care about any of it. She was back. And he felt like he’d finally gotten a piece of himself back, too.

And then she’d disappeared again. He’d been confused, but had waited for her to swing by his window or leave a message. It never came. He tried sending her one, but there was no response. Two days passed, and another akuma attacked.

He’d arrived eagerly. By then he assumed her memories just hadn’t returned. That was fine. He’d been searching for a solution, and while he hadn’t found one yet, he was eager to begin creating new ones. He was prepared, he told himself, for the event her memories never returned. It hurt, but it was a small price to pay for this miracle. Besides, he wasn’t giving up yet.

But when Ladybug had joined him minutes later, it wasn’t his Lady behind the mask. The nightmare returned, worse this time as the battled the akuma. Horror distracted him and almost cost them everything as Red explained a temporary holder had stood-in for her the other day. When he’d demanded to know who, she’d explained she didn’t know. Tikki had simply said to trust her and left with the earrings, returning less than three hours later with the jewels.

He’d almost given up then. He’d almost dropped his baton and thrown his ring down at the akuma’s feet. For a moment he did stop, his fingers loose on the cool metal. It was too much. All of it was too much for one person to bear. If Chat Noir’s heart was irreparably broken, then he didn’t want to be Chat Noir anymore.

Only interception from a nearby civilian had saved him from the akuma. It was a harsh reminder but one he needed. His Lady wasn’t the only person he was fighting for, wasn’t the only one with something to lose if he faltered again.

At least they’d learned some things. One, this plan was one his Lady and Tikki had come up with together. And two, wearing the Miraculous, becoming Ladybug, wasn’t enough to trigger her memories. He’d noted those things, filed them away, and then sunk into a river of despair from which he couldn’t save himself. The pain of literally holding her just for her to slip away again was too great. He couldn’t fight it.

So he’d stopped trying.

“Dude.”

Adrien blinked, looking over at Nino, who was staring pointedly at Mme. Bustier. “Mm?

“I asked if you would take Miss Bourgeois her homework today, Mr. Agreste,” their teacher repeated. “If you have the time?”

Chloe. That name finally stirred some feeling in him. Betrayal. Anger. Disappointment. He grabbed onto them like a lifeline. Anything was better than this numbness. “Sure.”

He had to get a grip. He’d always tried to see the best in everyone and everything, to find the silver lining. It had become infinitely more important since Hawkmoth had appeared. And if he couldn’t get it together, it would only be a matter of time until an akuma floated through his window with his name on it.

It changed nothing, he decided as he belatedly shoved his books into his bag, only realizing the day was truly over as his classmates began to leave. What happened wasn’t his Lady’s fault. It was Tikki’s. She could have picked someone else, anyone else. Part of him knew there were probably extenuating circumstances that couldn’t be avoided. It was certainly the first time a senti-monster had accompanied an akuma in some time, and he’d been unable to use his cataclysm. Perhaps Tikki had panicked, trusting his Lady’s instincts to be enough to save them both - which they had. Could he even be angry?

Yes, he decided, standing and accepting Chloe’s homework from Mme. Bustier. He could. Tikki could have told her to wait, or to come back. Tikki could have changed it all.

But had anything really changed? No. Tikki probably knew that, too. That was what the letter had said, hadn’t it. ‘ _Once it’s safe_ ’. Hawkmoth had a copy of the book, too. Perhaps their nemesis had found what he’d been unable to do: a way to restore lost memories.

It didn’t matter. It was all speculation. He knew his Lady would never do anything to hurt him. He knew what had happened wouldn’t have been her choice, if she knew what it would have meant. It didn’t make it hurt any less. If anything it hurt more, to see face to face just how much he had lost.

“Um…Adrien?”

Marinette’s voice jerked Adrien back to the empty classroom. He realized he’d been staring at his desk, not seeing it. Even Nino had left. He’d probably said goodbye and he hadn’t even heard him.

“Hey, Marinette,” Adrien said. His voice came out rusty with disuse. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken more than two words to anyone. Probably not at all in the past five days.

His classmate was peeking up at him from under her lashes as she fiddled with something in her hand. “I was going to ask you if you were ok,” she said, “But that would be dumb, because I can tell something’s wrong. We all can.” She finally looked up at him. “We’re all worried about you. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I just wanted to let you know that we’re here for you, and… and I made this for you.”

She held out the small package she’d been fidgeting with. Adrien took it, surprised, and pulled the pale pink ribbon to open the gift. Inside was a small quilted book. It smelled like lavender and vanilla - like Marinette. When he opened it, he discovered it was a sort of photo album, filled with pictures of him with all his friends. Him and Nino goofing off, him and Kim and Max playing video games, him and Juleka modelling together. The only one missing was…

“You’re not in any of these,” he said, looking up.

Marinette shrugged. “I kinda ran out of room,” she explained. “There were so many great photos to choose from, and - ”

“Will you bring one so I can add it?” Adrien asked, squeezing the little book. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten, Marinette, but it needs a picture of my best friend.”

“Your best…” Marinette trailed off, staring up at him. “Me?”

Adrien nodded. He didn’t know when it had happened, or how, considering how nervous his celebrity seemed to make her, but when he needed someone, Marinette was the person he thought of first. When he needed advice, Marinette was the one he turned to. When he needed a break, Marinette’s balcony was the one he ended up on.

“Why don’t we take a picture right now?” Adrien suggested as the inspiration nudged him. “And then I’ll add it to the book.”

“Um, sure,” Marinette said with a grin. “I’ll, um, try to find another protective sheet thingy for it.”

“Deal,” Adrien said, pulling out his phone. He opened up the camera, then wrapped an arm around Marinette’s shoulders and pulled her close. After a moment, she placed an arm around his waist as well. He tried not to shudder at the contact, tried to suppress the memories that surged up from the last time he’d been this close to someone - to her. He’d promised himself he’d never let her slip away, never let himself lose her again, only for her to disappear like smoke on the wind.

But Marinette was real, he told himself. She was here, and she wasn’t going to disappear. He could feel her warmth through his shirt, could smell the same lavender and vanilla coming from her.

As though she could sense the anguish rolling off him in waves, Marinette twisted, wrapping both her arms around him in a tight hug. It was almost enough to trigger more tears, but he swallowed them. He’d cried enough. It was time to look to the future.

“Thank you, Marinette,” Adrien whispered. He turned his face, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he took the photo. He wanted to remember this feeling after it had passed, to be able to pull this photo out the next time he felt like crying and remember there was still love to be had if he was willing to accept it.

Marinette dropped her arms and stepped back, as though she were overwhelmed as well. “You’re welcome,” she said quickly. “Um, out did it turn how?”

Adrien chuckled, opening up the photo. It was a little off-centre, a little crooked. It was perfect. “I love it,” he said. “It’s the perfect addition.”

“Yeah, you’re perfect,” Marinette said softly as she looked over his shoulder. “I mean, it’s perfect. Could you maybe…send it to me? So I can have a picture with my best friend, too?”

“Deal,” Adrien said, already sending it over. “Thank you, Marinette. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, beaming. “And…if you want, I can take Chloe her stuff.”

Adrien blinked. He’d forgotten all about Chloe. “I don’t mind,” he said, shouldering his bag. “It’ll just be a quick trip.” And the Grand Palais was on his patrol route. He might as well start there. He’d be doing several laps anyway.

“Want company?” Marinette offered.

He did, he realized. He wanted to ask her along more than anything, wanted to bring her along and show her his Paris, to spend the evening with a friend, to lose himself in Marinette until he could blot out his Lady and his impossible quest altogether. Just for one night.

But he knew, even as his brain raced ahead to the logistics between ‘Adrien’ and ‘Chat Noir, that he couldn’t. That it wouldn’t be just one night or one time. He knew he could fall in love with her, if he let himself forget.

It would be easy. So incredibly easy. And selfish.

“Thanks,” Adrien said, “But it’s ok. I’m…I’ll be ok.”

“Ok,” Marinette said, adjusting her bag. “There’s always something for you at the bakery if you change your mind.” She left with a wave, and Adrien watched her go, waiting until he knew she was too far to chase after her to head down to his waiting car.

“To the Grand Palais,” Adrien instructed as he strapped in. His bodyguard raised and eyebrow but didn’t say anything as he turned onto the busy street. The trip was quick, and they arrived sooner than Adrien would have liked. He grabbed his bag. “I’m going to be working with Chloe for a while. You should head back.”

His bodyguard frowned.

“Group project,” Adrien explained. “Wasn’t my choice. Her driver will give me a ride back.”

His bodyguard finally nodded and popped the locks on the door. Adrien waited until he drove away to head into the hotel. He’d convinced himself it was no big deal, but the truth was that it was. Chloe had been his first friend, his oldest friend. He’d never imaged she was capable of siding with Hawkmoth. He knew she was no saint, but he hadn’t thought she’d betray them like that.

He’d been to Chloe’s several times, both as Adrien and as Chat Noir, but it was different this time. Even behind the mask, it had always felt like a second home. Now he felt like a stranger. He didn’t know her any more. Maybe he never had.

“It’s unlocked,” Chloe called when he knocked on the door.

Adrien took a deep breath and opened the door.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t Chloe in the middle of her spacious room, swathed in yards and yards of black and yellow bridal satin with pins pressed between her lips as she attempted something like draping. It took him a minute to realize his assumption had been right - she _was_ basing her design project on herself. Some things never did change.

“Maybe you misread the assignment, Chloe,” Adrien said coolly. “You’re supposed to design something based off one of the heroes, not the villains.”

She barely spared him a glance, and rolled her eyes when she did. “I can accept that you can’t forgive what I did,” she managed around the pins, “But if I wanted to be verbally abused, I would have just gone to school.”

“Is that why you haven’t been all week?” Adrien asked, stepping further into the room. “Avoiding everyone?”

“Tempting,” Chloe said, sticking her mannequin with a pin, “But no. I’ve been dreadfully ill. Today’s the first day I’ve been able to get out of bed. You all get to see my lovely face monday morning, don’t you worry.”

“About you?” Adrien said, dropping into a tufted chair and crossing his long legs. “I didn’t think I had to.”

“Well then I guess we were both wrong,” Chloe said, shoving her last pin into a fold of black satin. She stilled, one hand full of fabric, the other on the shoulder of her dressform, staring at it as though she could see in her design everything Queen Bee was supposed to have been, and everything it wasn’t.

“I’m sorry,” she said, finally looking at him. “I…I made a mistake. Maybe the worst mistake of my life. If I could change the past, I would, but I can’t. I regret the choices I made. They were mean, and cruel, and selfish, and I have no excuses. I’m sorry, Adrien. I understand that we’ll probably never be friends again, and you may never be able to accept my apology, but you still deserve to hear one.”

Adrien stilled, staring at his former friend as though he could still see pieces of her through the impenetrable wall that had gone up in the last year. “That doesn’t sound like the Chloe I know.”

“I’m trying something different,” Chloe said, adjusting a tuck, “Since that actually didn’t go so well for me.”

Logic and love warred in Adrien’s head. Logic wanted him to throw Chloe’s homework at her feet, tell her it was too late, and march up to the roof to get started on his patrol. Love had latched onto the hope that had taken advantage of his surprise and stolen in when he wasn’t looking.

Maybe he was still raw from losing his Lady. Maybe Marinette’s kindness had made him softer. Maybe, after everything, he needed something to be easy and good. Maybe he just needed to feel like he could fix something, anything at all. Maybe he just needed something to be normal again.

Maybe he just needed to know that forgiveness was possible. To know he was capable of giving it, and to hope that, when the time came, he was worthy of receiving it.

“Do you mean it?” Adrien asked quietly. His knuckles had gone white, wrapped around the arms of the chair. “Sincerely?”

Chloe looked up into his face, unflinching. “More than anything in my life. Probably more than anything I ever will.”

Adrien took a breath. Held it. Then let it go. Let it all go. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He offered a cautious half-smile. “Okay. I accept.”

Chloe bit her lip and ducked her head so he couldn’t see her face. “Okay. Thank you, Adrien. That…it means a lot to me. I know that I…I crossed a lot of boundaries, so we’ll just take it slow, and you can let me know where they are?”

“Sounds fair to me,” Adrien said. Finally, finally, something felt right again. Chloe shot him a grin over the mannequin’s shoulder and he returned it, reaching for his bag. “By the way, I actually came by to drop of… what was that?”

Chloe frowned. “What was what?”

“The light’s just…” Adrien squinted at the lights as they flickered again. He wouldn’t have noticed normally, except it never should have happened in the hotel.

“Adrien,” Chloe said, abruptly striding over to him. “You need to get out of here. Now.”

“What?” Adrien pushed back, shocked. “What are you talking about.”

“Something’s wrong,” she said, glaring around the room. “Can you feel it?”

He could, actually, but he didn’t know Chloe could, too.

“Ok,” he said, letting her steer him towards the door. If the hall was empty, he could transform and swing in through the window in seconds. If not, the elevator was just a few feet away.

They hadn’t taken three steps, however, when a large shadow pooled in front of the door, a tiny charm hovering in its centre. Then it grew teeth. Sharp teeth.

“Senti-monster,” they said at the same time. They glanced at each other, momentarily surprised, then back-peddled as the creature began to ooze towards them, slow but steady. The razor sharp fangs glinted in the light, but aside from the teeth, it remained half-corporeal, mostly shadow.

One of his worst fears was coming true. He was trapped with no where to go. Chat Noir could save them, but then Chloe and Hawkmoth would learn his identity. His Lady’s sacrifice would be for nothing.

“In here,” Chloe said, yanking him into the bathroom. She slammed the door shut behind them, locking it.

“Something tells me that’s not going to stop it,” Adrien said. Sure enough, the shadows at the bottom of the door were beginning to undulate and coalesce.

“I don’t disagree with you,” Chloe said. “Dammit. I was really hoping to keep it a secret this time. Tikki, spots on!”

Before he could even process what was happening, Adrien saw a red blur pop out of Chloe’s sweater and disappear into a pair of familiar black studs he hadn’t even noticed she’d been wearing.

All Adrien could do was watch through the pink light as the mask blazed across his friend’s eyes. All this time. All these weeks of ignoring her, of everyone shunning her. The taunts, the comments, the snide remarks. She’d been the one who stepped in for his Lady. She’d been saving all of them. And Ladybug had chosen her to do it.

“You? You’re - ”

“A temporary situation,” Red said, turning to the window. “I don’t think I need to tell you, but obviously this stays between us.” She popped it open and leveraged herself onto the sill before glancing back down at him. “If I had another choice, I would’t have dragged you into this, but Adrien, there are things going on right now that you don’t understand. I know you must be confused, but I need you to trust me.”

“I…I do.” What? _What?_ He was so far away from what she was saying right now he hadn’t even heard her. He was still trying to process the fact that he’d been fighting side by side with Chloe for weeks and hadn’t even known.

“I’ll be back in a second,” Red said, unslinging the yo-yo from around her waist. “Stay here.”

Adrien glanced at the door where a shadow was starting to rise up. He could already see a tooth. He turned to say as much to Red, but she’d already disappeared.

“Well, I never would have predicted that.” Plagg poked his head over Adrien’s collar but ducked when he saw the senti-monster shaping up. “Why would Ladybug ever choose her?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Adrien grunted as he grabbed a broom from the closet.

“Time for Chat Noir to arrive?” Plagg suggested.

“I’d agree,” Adrien said, swinging the broom. “Shame about the audience.” The bristle’s passed right through the monster like it wasn’t even there. The teeth parted and a hissing noise escaped. It was laughing, he realized.

The bathroom door suddenly banged open and Red was there, a lucky charm already in hand. “When I distract it, run,” she said. And then she lunged at the monster.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Adrien said, leaping past her.

Except he didn’t leave. Instead, he ran to the closet. With or without Chat Noir, he was still Red’s partner. He snatched up shoes by the pair and began heaving them at the senti-monster. Even without the mask, his aim was pretty good.

The monster snarled, turning on him. It had gotten faster, Adrien realized. And bigger. Much bigger.

He dove to the side as the monster pounced for him. He rolled, his shoulder stinging icy cold where the shadows brushed him.

“When I said run, I meant away,” Red said, hauling him up by his bad arm. He hissed at the pain, and both of them were surprised when her hand came away wet. “That is…decidedly more deadly than I’m used to.”

Adrien heard the chuckle before he saw the explosion, but it wasn’t as far behind as he hoped. He tackled Red just in time, knocking her to the floor as the blast sent shrapnel whistling over their heads.

“My…closet…” Red whispered, staring over his shoulder. “ _My closet!_ ”

Adrien followed her gaze. Sure enough, a gaping hole leading straight down to the Parisian streets was letting a nice breeze in where her closet had once stood. The senti-monster was no where to be found, but the charred remains of the charm that had been floating in its centre and an equally scorched feather lay dead-centre of the blast radius.

“I guess you won’t have to use that,” Adrien groaned, nodding at the spotted butterfly-catcher. “How’s that for lucky?”

“Oh, yeah,” Red said, staggering to her feet. “I sure feel real lucky right now!”

“The Lucky Charm will fix it,” Adrien said, pulling himself up. He paused for a moment as she sifted through the remnants of her wardrobe, as though his idea were just occurring to him. “Your suit changed. It didn’t look like this last weekend?”

“What?” She gasped as what used to be a Louboutin crumbled in her fingers.

“Last weekend with that monster that stole everyone’s voices.” Adrien tried not to flinch as the memories of that day swirled up. “You looked different. I, um, saw it on Alya’s blog.”

“I couldn’t make it to that,” Red said as though it were just some party that had clashed with a birthday. “Sick, remember? That’s actually why I couldn’t make it to school. Every time I started to get better and akuma would attack and it’d wear me right back out. If I fail this semester I am so suing Hawkmoth for damages.”

“So that wasn’t you?” Adrien asked innocently.

“Don’t even try it, Agreste,” Red said, finally looking at him. “I don’t know who it was, and even if I did, I couldn’t tell you. All I know is Tikki took the Miraculous to someone else to stand in, and if it was who I think it was… well. I can’t say anything else.”

“You said this was a temporary situation,” he pressed unable to drop it. “Does that mean…?”

“Seriously, Adrien,” Red said, giving him her full attention. “Something’s wrong, ok? With the heroes. I don’t know what, just that Ladybug has this top secret mission or something. I don’t know. I didn’t get the details, and honestly, I can’t blame her for not telling me. I’m holding onto her Miraculous just until she gets back. That’s it. That’s the whole story. She didn’t even give them to me herself, so that is literally the whole story, okay?”

“Okay.” Adrien made his way over to his bag and pulled out her homework, dropping it on the chair. “Your secret is safe with me. Are you going to be ok here?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Red said, waving him off. “The miracle cure will fix this whole mess, I just cannot _believe_ that mangy cat! And he doesn’t even show his face. Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

“Alright, Chlo,” Adrien said, unable to completely hide a grin as he opened the door. “Catch you later.”

He slipped out the door as she reached for the unused Lucky Charm. Had he glanced back, he might have noticed the suspicious look she threw his way, but he didn’t, and the door slipped shut just as the Ladybugs began to fix everything.

“I don’t know if I should hug you or only give you kraft singles for a week,” Adrien said once he was in an elevator on his way to the roof. “That was incredibly dangerous of you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Plagg gasped, swirling out of Adrien’s pocket. “Besides, I’ve been practicing! It only spread down five floors! And, if you’ll recall, I did promise to cataclysm everything she loves.”

Adrien’s retort died on the tip of his tongue. After all, how could he argue with that. Promise made; promise kept.

“Fair enough,” Adrien finally said as they approached the roof. “Okay, you get out of it this time. Plagg, claws out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! Was it who you thought it was? You can let me know @kittinoir on tumblr ;) <3


	17. In A Crowd of Thousands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time Chat Noir gets to remember it.

_Her heart pounds in her ears, echoing the sound of her footsteps on cobblestone. She forces herself not to run, even as panic and adrenaline urge her to hurry, hurry, but she knows nothing will draw his attention like a mouse scurrying for cover._

_That is, if he even knows who she is._

_She can’t be sure, but that monster, that thing, cornered her too close to home for her to rest easy. Her ribs still ache from how it surprised her. It’s terrifying, because it shouldn’t hurt, but in the end her bruised ribs are what spurred her to leave her house so late. They are a testament to her nemesis’ strength, an unavoidable truth that he is stronger than her and he will not rest and until he’s ripped her earrings from her ears and a name from her lips._

_If it were anyone else, she might have been able to withstand the storm._

_But love has made her reckless and desperate to change her fate. It may not be enough. As she passes through shadow after shadow she racks her mind for any other answer, any other hope. She wishes she could ask for advice, but she’s already relinquished her companion, hidden her away. Besides, she knows if she puts those earrings back on she won’t be able to take them off a second time. The plan is in motion; any disruption now could mean disaster. She can not hesitate. She won’t._

_She stumbles to a stop as the mansion comes into view._

_She hadn’t thought out this part. She pulls her hood closer around her face. Even so, it might be enough - but it has to be, or this is all for nothing._

_As she watches, a figure appears outside the stone wall, half in shadow, like her. A glint of blonde hair catches the light off a streetlamp and she can’t believe her luck, though it’s been her domain for more than a year now. It makes sense; he should just be coming off patrol now. It’s careless to detransform on the street like he must have, but she knows how strict his father can be. She’s had three weeks to get used to the idea, but she still can’t quite reconcile it. If anything, though, his appearance out here on the street is proof. How else could he flout his iron-clad schedule?_

_This is it. The beginning of the end of everything. She has to stop him now, before he disappears inside the gate and she can convince herself she tried._

_‘Adrien!’_

_She sees him stop, sets him turn as she she hurries across the street, stepping into shadow with him. She should tell him. It’s what every fibre of her being is screaming at her to do. Tell him, and figure out a new plan together._

_But she knows he won’t let her follow through on her plan, and she knows she’ll let him stop her, because she would give anything for a different answer. In that moment, she commits to her course of action. She can do this for Paris. She can do this for him._

_‘What - ’_

_‘I don’t have time,’ she cuts him off. She has to do this, now, before he realizes what she’s doing. ‘I… I wrote everything down in the tablet. Give the earrings to Chloe Bourgeois. I know it doesn’t make sense right now, but trust me on this. There’s good in her, and… I’m sorry. I’m sorry. If love were enough, I’d still be here. But it’s not, and this is the only way I can… I’m sorry. Goodbye…Adrien…”_

_She stretches up on her toes and kisses his cheek, the barest feathering of her lips on his skin. As she does, she shoves the box and the tablet into his arms, hard enough to make him stumble back. Then she runs._

_She runs until she is sure he isn’t following her, until she is sure he would have gone inside, until she is fairly certain there is no going back. And then she gives it all up._

_‘I, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, former Ladybug and guardian of Paris, hereby relinquish the Miracle Box and name Adrien Agreste the new guardian.’_

Marinette groaned as her eyes popped open. They felt dry, and she blinked a few times as she reached for her phone to check the time. The display read 2:35 am. She let the phone drop as she twisted into a more comfortable position, but between the moon shining through her skylight and the flickering, fading images of her nightmare, her body had decided she was awake.

“Fine,” she grumbled, flipping the covers back. She climbed down to her room and flicked on the lights, careful to roll her chair silently across her floor as she settled down by her dress. Extra cash for extra fabric was all well and good, but it also meant extra hemming. Given the design, it all had to be done by hand. And that meant hours of extra work.

As Marinette threaded her needle, she couldn’t help but glance at her open window and the plate she’d left there. She knew what she’d see before she looked, but she couldn’t stop hope from springing up anyway. It frayed into frustration and embarrassment as she took in the untouched plate. She’d spent the better part of a year and a half chasing after Adrien, and as soon as she started to even think of someone else, they…

Well, they broke her heart.

It had been like that for over two weeks now. At first she’d thought Chat Noir just hadn’t had the time until four nights ago when she’d seen his silhouette bounding across the Notre Dame on patrol. He hadn’t even paused. Not that he had, to, she’d reminded herself. They barely knew each other, hadn’t made any promises.

So why did it sting so much?

“It doesn’t matter,” Marinette reminded herself as she took up the hem. “It was just a silly little crush. It wasn’t even real. It just makes things easier, really.”

Besides, it wasn’t his fault if she imagined something that wasn’t there. And anyway, Alya was always swearing up and down that Chat Noir was in love with Ladybug. When she’d shown Marinette the pictures, she’d had to agree with her friend. Even if it wasn’t obvious to the super heroine, it was obvious to her.

“Ughhhh!” Marinette jabbed the needle into the mannequin and leaned back, covering her eyes with the palms of her hands. “Why? Why am I such a disaster?!”

“I don’t think you’re a disaster.”

Marinette sat up so fast she almost fell off her chair. “You! What are you doing here?”

Chat Noir cocked an eyebrow as he slowly bit down on a macaron. “I thought I had a standing invitation? Or did I misread the open window and plate of goodies? Though I feel I should warn you, as far as keeping people out goes, that only officially works on vampires.”

Marinette bit her lip, taking a chocolate chip cookie from the plate when he offered it. “I thought you weren’t coming by anymore,” she admitted. “Not that you have to, or that I want you to; you can do what you want, it doesn’t bother me, it’s fine, I’m fine.”

Those impossibly green eyes darted to the ground, then back up to her face as his smile faltered.

“I was…afraid to come here,” he admitted, setting the plate down.

“Afraid?” She knew the heroes were just people, but she’d never imagined Chat Noir afraid of anything. “Afraid of what?

“Not ‘of what’,” he said, twisting on the sill so his legs were dangling into her room. “For you.”

The words sent a chill skittering down Marinette’s spine. “For me?”

He nodded. “Hawkmoth has been… no.” He ran a hand through his blonde hair in frustration. “You know the senti-monsters that have been popping up the past three weeks?”

Marinette nodded. “One attacked Alya and Nino.”

“One also attacked Chloe Bourgeois,” Chat Noir said. “I think Hawkmoth is trying to hunt down Ladybug.”.

“But why?” Marinette asked with a shiver. “You guys always show up when there’s an akuma, why would he be…”

“Because that’s not Ladybug.”

The precipice yawned in front of Marinette. This time it felt like the ground crumbled under her feet, and she was falling, falling, falling.

“What do you mean?”

Chat Noir dropped into her room, pacing silently on the floor. “It’s…complicated. But Ladybug gave up being Ladybug and gave the earrings to someone else in order to protect someone. I think Hawkmoth knows that, and I think he’s hunting her down by attacking members of our team, trying to find a weak point.”

Marinette flexed her fingers, trying to work some warmth back into them. “And…what does that have to do with me?”

“Don’t you get it, Marinette?” Chat Noir dropped to a knee in front of her, snatching up her hands as though he could convey the urgency of his fear through touch alone. “You’re part of that team. No one but me knows you’re Multimouse. And if I lead one of the monsters to your door… I would never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me. Not after everything…”

Marinette leaned forward and cupped Chat Noir’s cheek, running a thumb along his cheekbone. “It’s ok,” she said softly, wanting more than anything to ease the burden he must be feeling. “ _I’m_ ok. I understand.”

“I have to ask you something,” he said, “Even though I have no right, I…”

“You’re my friend,” Marinette said with a small smile. “You have every right. Ask me.”

He squeezed her hands once, then let go. “I don’t want you to wear a Miraculous again,” he said softly, unable to meet her eyes as he spoke. “It’s not about your skill. You’re one of the best team mates we have, and I can see why my Lady chose you, but…”

 _I’m afraid for you_.

“Chat Noir.” She waited until he met her eyes again. “If the roles were reversed - if it were me out there everyday, fighting to protect Paris, and I asked you not to help, would you?”

Pain flashed across his face but he answered honestly. “No. Not if I could. But it’s different, Marinette. You don’t even know me.”

“I do,” she promised, pulling him to his feet as she stood. This close she could feel the warmth of his body next to hers. She was acutely aware of the few inches separating them. “I know you’re brave, and selfless, and kind. I know you’re funny, but you also use jokes because you’re afraid. You take on too much and you don’t like to ask for help, and when you love someone, it’s with your whole heart. I would guess the only thing I don’t know about you, Kitty, is your name.”

“How do you do that?” he whispered, searching her face.

“Do what?” Marinette asked. She tilted her head back, her heart skipping as Chat Noir laced his fingers with hers.

“See through everything,” he murmured, “See me.”

“Almost everything…” she said, reaching up to trace the edge of his mask . “Just lucky I guess.”

His lips crashed into hers, one arm around her waist, the other in her hair as he pulled her in, like he’d thought of nothing else for days. Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tighter. Tingles raced over her skin. She couldn’t get a breath in, but she didn’t care. She tangled her fingers in his hair and heard him moan in response. She liked it. She wanted to hear more.

But he abruptly broke away from her, falling back against the window. Cold rushed in where his body had been pressed against hers moments ago.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, but he ran his tongue over his lips like he could still taste her on them. “I was supposed to be making sure you were safe, not endangering you more. I shouldn’t have… I should go.”

“Don’t.” The sound broke from Marinette before she could stop it. “I…I know things are complicated. I don’t expect anything, but please. Don’t go. Don’t disappear on me.”

“I would _never_ do that,” Chat Noir said. He straightened as though he would reach for her again, but seemed to think better of the idea. “I just…don’t want to be the reason you get hurt.”

“I understand,” Marinette said. She took one step, then another, until she was standing in front of him again. “I’m asking you to trust me. Do you?”

“More than anyone else,” he said softly. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll do my very best,” Marinette promised, “Though you should know I’m the clumsiest person in the whole city, so you’re kind of asking a lot.”

She leaned in, slower this time, giving him time to stop her if he wanted to.

Instead he tilted his face, meeting her half way in a kiss that was much more gentle than their first, a tentative beginning. She broke away after a moment, but instead he just leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed, as though trapped in her gravity.

“Good night, Marinette.” He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, the faintest brush of his lips against her skin. “Sweet dreams.”

He pulled away again and disappeared through her window into the night. Marinette watched him go as long as she could until his shadow finally disappeared from view. She placed a hand over her heart as she turned back to her room and flicked off the light, suddenly exhausted, but paused to trace a finger over her lips.

So much, she thought, for things being easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I hope you are all enjoying Echoes! For those of you who have been reading along, you may or may not have noticed this fic now has a definitive chapter count. I have planned out the remainder of this story, and as of this chapter, there are ten chapters left. I wanted to give you guys a big heads up so you were all prepared, and take this opportunity to thank you for your support and comments and love for this story. I'm sure it won't be the only one of its' kind, but it will definitely hold a special place in my heart. <3


	18. Bad Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cat is out of the bag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for violence! Nothing too graphic, but...ya know. Talk shit, get hit.

Chat Noir couldn’t get the taste of Marinette off his lips.

He’d practically begged her not to join the fight again, nearly paralyzed by the fear of something happening to her and not being able to do anything but watch. It had never bothered him before, but then, blind trust in his Lady had given him false confidence. The Miracle Cure could fix anything, and together they could beat anything Hawkmoth threw at them. Now Red’s inexperience made them vulnerable. She was growing in leaps and bounds, but she just didn’t have the skill that came with over a year’s worth of practice.

He’d been afraid Marinette would distract him on the field, but he’d never imagined she could do it from over five kilometres away. As if to prove his point, Red’s yo-yo came flying out of the twilight and nailed him in temple.

“You’re not focused tonight,” Red accused as she appeared from around one of the many trees in Trocadero. “That’s, like, the fifth hit I’ve landed.”

“Maybe you’re just getting better,” Chat Noir lied, rubbing his head. Thank god the Miraculous absorbed most of the damage or there’d be a lot of questions about the crown of bruises he’d be sporting the next day.

“Don’t insult me,” Red scoffed, rolling her eyes. As she did he had to wonder how he’d never noticed how Chloe-like she was. It must have been the black hair throwing him off. “You’re just getting sloppy. What is it this time? Finally found your mystery Bug?”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he snapped. She raised her palms in a gesture of peace as he glared at her, but the truth was it was his own guilt that was eating away at him.

He’d known - he’d _known_ \- he was confused about Marinette, and he’d convinced himself to see her anyway. ‘For her own good’. To protect her, because he couldn’t lose someone else. And then kissing her, not once, but twice, because no matter how hard he tried to keep her at arms length, he couldn’t stop himself from crossing the line, again, and again, and again.

And the past four days had been agonizing - not just because he’d laid awake every night convincing himself not to pass by her place until he fell into a restless sleep, but because he had to face her every day at school. And that, it turned out, was every bit as challenging. He’d catch the scent of cinnamon and vanilla, or their hands would brush in the hall, and he’d find himself swaying towards her like a star caught in her orbit.

He’d known he could fall in love with her. He just hadn’t known she’d be so addictive.

And in the meantime, his Lady was still out there, counting on him. He’d tried to fix things and all he’d done was make them more complicated. He still loved his Lady. A part of him thought he always would. But Marinette… that could be real, he realized for the first time. Attainable, and good, and steady. Different, but just as good as what he felt for his Lady, if he let himself pursue it.

And he was surprised to find he wanted to.

“Just a rough couple of days,” Chat Noir said, rolling his shoulders back. “Running extra patrols, that kind of thing. Let’s go again.”

Red raised a brow. “You sure?”

“This is all the time we have to prepare,” he said, squaring up. “We should make the most of it.”

“Well you two look much friendlier than the last time I saw you.”

Red scowled over Chat Noir’s shoulder, and he turned to see Salem leaning against a tree-trunk, half in shadow. At least they could agree on how they felt about their guardian.

“I was beginning to think you took off with the Miracle Box,” Chat Noir said, sheathing his baton.

“Thought about it,” Salem admitted breezily. Chat Noir believed he probably had. “Decided I wouldn’t get too far, especially considering the…limitations on it.”

“I thought you couldn’t open the tablet,” Chat Noir said cautiously.

Salem shrugged. “Couldn’t. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened, if they’re paying attention.”

“Uh, anyone feel like cluing me in here?” Red asked, crossing her arms.

“Not really,” Salem said. For once, Chat Noir agreed with him. The fewer witnesses to this discussion, the better - especially since that witness was Chloe. His Lady may have trusted her, but he was still reserving judgement. “You can go, Lady-brat.”

Red’s scowl grew more ferocious, but she swallowed any retort that might have been on her lips. “What-ever. I’m out.”

Chat Noir crossed his arms as he listened to Red leave and subtly repositioned himself in front of Salem. He wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t go far, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Salem anticipated that as well.

“So you still haven’t found her,” Salem finally said. “I must admit, I’m surprised. I didn’t realize she was the entire brains of your little operation.”

Chat Noir stifled a wince, glad for the mask on his face. “My Lady knows I like a challenge,” he retorted.

“No, I guess she wouldn’t have made it easy.” Salem began to casually stroll around the hero.

“Don’t tell me you’ve figured it out?” Chat Noir said, hope creeping into his voice. “Care to share?”

Salem snorted. “No, unfortunately _your Lady_ is as elusive to me as she is to you, Adrien.”

Chat Noir’s ears rang with the sound of his name, so nonchalantly dropped he almost missed it. His heart began to pound in his chest. He’d been so hell-bent on finding his Lady and shocked at discovering Chloe that he’d never imagined a scenario where he’d be caught out, and certainly not by someone he wasn’t sure he could count among his allies.

“It isn’t like her to make mistakes,” he said smoothly. He didn’t allow any of the storm he was feeling to show on his face. For all he knew it was a bluff anyway.

“It was never supposed to be me; it was supposed to be you,” Salem continued as though he hadn’t expected him to make it easy. “In the end, it was no different from any other thing in my life..”

Salem ripped his hood back as his mask dissolved into smoke, revealing a familiar face.

“Felix?”

His cousin glared back at him, producing the same delicate Miracle Box he’d first seen months ago. “It was never meant for me,” he said, holding it out. “Getting Trixx to come out and play was a challenge, but in the end he did it for the same reason any of them have even deigned to speak to me - for her. Your Lady.”

“You’re supposed to be in London,” Chat Noir said stupidly. The mundane detail was the only thing he could seize on. The rest of it couldn’t make sense until that did. “How…?”

Felix sneered. “Seriously, Adrien? How hard is it? I was there, ok!? I was there that night. I was outside because I was trying to figure out how to steal the other Grande de Vanily ring. My mom didn’t know, no one knew. It was a mistake. Ladybug saw me and thought I was you, and she gave me the box. She was scared, and it all happened so fast. I think she was afraid you’d try to stop her, and then she disappeared just as quickly.”

“It’s been you the whole time…”

“More or less,” Felix said. “Like I said, Trixx was…generous enough to help out from time to time.”

“That night on the Eiffel Tower?”

Felix nodded. “Sneaking out of the house after nine is one thing, but travelling to a different country is quite another. Needless to say Kaalki wasn’t nearly as co-operative.”

Chat Noir pounced on his cousin, pinning him to the ground. Miraculous-born strength made it easy, and he had to remind himself not to hurt his cousin. “I asked you a thousand times,” he ground out, “For the details of what happened. And you told me there were no messages, no more answers.”

“Forgive me for not wanting to get mixed up in all this,” Felix snarled. “What was I supposed to do, leave a trail of rose petals to my front door for Hawkmoth to follow? Not all of us have a side-kick to throw under the bus when the bad guy comes knocking!”

Chat Noir hit him. He felt cartilage tear under his knuckles. Blood gushed down the front of his cousins’ jacket. Too late, he realized Felix had let him pin him - he was still using Trixx. He remembered, though, when Felix punched him right back. The two rolled across the grass tearing at each other until they stopped as suddenly as they had started, flat on their backs on the grass, out of breath, and staring up at the night sky.

“Feel better?” Felix panted, swiping blood of his face.

“Not as much as I thought I would,” Chat Noir admitted. “Sorry about the nose.”

But Felix shrugged. “Maybe now people will stop comparing me to the great Adrien Agreste. Besides, I know you were holding back.”

Chat Noir frowned and winced when he pulled his split lip. “What makes you think I was holding back?”

“You didn’t cataclysm my face,” Felix said, groaning as he sat up. “I guess I should thank you for that.”

“You didn’t deserve it,” Chat Noir said, sitting up as well. “Hawkmoth on the other hand…”

“I have to agree with you there,” Felix said. “That man has made my life a living hell ever since this happened. I have no idea how you’ve put up with it for almost two years. And Adrien…I never would have tried to sell you out to him if I’d known you were the one behind the mask.”

“I know,” Chat Noir said. He wasn’t sure how he felt knowing Felix would have been fine selling out a stranger, but supposed it was the best he was going to get. “Is that why you decided to tell me it was you? You want out?”

“Out?” Felix repeated. “Are you kidding? I want to take that man _down_.”

Chat Noir frowned. “Because you felt threatened for seven weeks any time you showed up here as the guardian?”

“Do I need another reason?” Felix demanded, but his shoulders sagged. “Whether it was an accident or not, Ladybug chose me to be the guardian. It started out with me trying to prove to myself I could be just as good a choice as you. I didn’t realize she’d picked you because you were her partner, and I thought I didn’t care, but…”

“Are you trying to say you got invested?” Chat Noir asked.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say I want to see how it ends. Besides, you guys need some more morally grey heroes to do the dirty work.”

“I don’t know that withholding information, manipulating people, and theft makes you a hero, Felix,” Chat Noir said. “But…and I’ll deny this if you ever bring it up, especially to Ladybug, you might have a point.”

“All true,” Felix admitted. “Maybe this will make up for it; Trixx, let’s rest.”

Chat Noir squinted as bright orange light lit the empty park. The little fox kwami spiralled forth and dove into Felix’s waist coat pocket, rummaging around for god only knew what snack he preferred.

“You wanted information,” Felix said as Trixx reappeared with some snap peas. “They won’t talk to me, but they’ve been dying to talk to you.”

“Chat Noir!” Trixx sailed over, nuzzling his cheek bone. “So many things to tell you!”

“And you kept them to yourself because…?” Chat Noir asked as he held out his hand for the kwami.

“First of all, you’re tough to track down,” Felix said. “And second of all, I wasn’t sure I could trust you. I didn’t put together you were Chat Noir until like three nights ago. I thought there was a reason Ladybug didn’t trust her partner with the Miracle box. I didn’t realize ‘Adrien’ _was_ her partner.”

It made sense, in the worst way. The events of the past two months were beginning to remind him a little too much of one of Shakespeare’s tragedies for comfort. Missed messages. Mistaken identities. He had to make sure their story didn’t end the same way as those ones.

“Hey, Trixx,” he said, turning to the kwami. “Thanks for helping Felix out the past couple of weeks. What’ve you got for me?”

Trixx floated slowly into the air, spreading his arms. “The fox is the Miraculous of illusion,” he declared. “When I’m in play not everything is as it seems.”

“I know,” Chat Noir said, confused. “You and Alya have helped me and Ladybug out a bunch of times.”

“Not just her,” Trixx said, leaning in. “And not just me. I’m not the only one who makes people see things that aren’t there when someone needs to be in two places at once.”

“Two places at…are you saying Ladybug used you to appear in two places at once as her civilian self?”

Trixx smiled. “It’s easier to use me than a disguise, although a lie will do in a pinch.”

Wayem. He’d used Wayem as a distraction, and a lie…when he’d called Francious Dupont an elementary school. That had been his lie.

“You can’t give me a name, can you?” Chat Noir asked. He knew the answer and wasn’t surprised when Trixx shook his head, but he’d had to ask, just in case. “Did she use you before or after she became the guardian?”

“Before,” Trixx said, somersaulting through the air.

“Finally asking the right questions,” Felix muttered.

“There were too many times,” Chat Noir said, frustrated. “It could have been anytime in the past seven months. For all I know it could be Alya herself, or any one of the civilians Ladybug and I rescued. I don’t know how long Ladybug had access to the Miraculous. I never thought to ask later. It didn’t seem important.”

“Sleep on it,” Trixx suggested. “It’s not so complicated. Follow your heart. Sometimes instead of looking for what’s wrong, we should look for what’s missing.”

“Do you ever speak in anything other than riddles?” Chat Noir muttered.

“When the occasion calls for it,” Trixx said succinctly before drifting back to Felix.

“You should take this,” his cousin said, picking up the Miracle box from where it had fallen when they’d fought. Chat Noir hadn’t even noticed it, and he wondered if that meant maybe Felix should keep it.

“She named you,” Felix said, as though reading his mind. “More importantly, she chose you. It belongs with you. It’s safer with with you.”

“Not if anyone else figures out my identity,” Chat Noir mumbled, but he took the box.

“That secret’s safe with me,” Felix promised.

“It was safe with Ladybug, too.” In the end, she’d been right. They were only as safe as Hawkmoth’s latest akuma, and the best kept secrets were the ones you never shared.

“What’s done is done,” Felix said, not unkindly. “It’s time to look to the future. The way I see it, there’s only one way to fix everything so it’s safe to find your Bug.”

“Oh?” Chat Noir flexed his claws. He had the Miracle box, he had the tablet; he was ready to get his Lady back. “What’s that?”

“We have to take out Hawkmoth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think when all the kwami's partied on Nooroo's birthday, Plagg complained for hours about how ridiculous the lovesquare is while Tikki just said 'I think it's sweet'.


	19. Only The Lonely Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette breaks a promise, sort of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For your consideration:
> 
> The Death of Me - Marianna's Trench

Marinette couldn’t get the taste of Chat Noir off her lips.

It didn’t seem to matter that it had been nearly a whole week since he’d kissed her (and she had, admittedly, kissed him back). It didn’t matter that he hadn’t stopped by since. What mattered was that it had happened and she’d been able to think about little else since.

It wasn’t that she was completely enamoured or anything. In fact, it was the opposite. The fact was, Adrien still owned her heart. She’d only just managed to start holding down conversations with him, but her palms still sweat, her pulse still raced any time he glanced her way.

No, the reason she couldn’t stop thinking about Chat Noir was because, in those moments when he’d been kissing her, she hadn’t been confused at all. It wasn’t that everything had gone quiet and she didn’t care or that the affection had helped her make a choice. No, it was that in that moment, it had felt like everything had fallen into place, as though her dilemma actually had a really simple answer she’d just forgotten to remember, as though she’d been there before and would be again.

And in all honesty, it terrified her. She’d been in love with Adrien for so long she couldn’t imagine being with anyone else - so why had those few seconds when he’d been kissing her been bliss?

“You ok, girl?” Alya asked when their teacher stepped out of the room for a moment. “You look…” Alya shrugged, frowning, the word she was looking for just out of reach.

“Just tired,” Marinette murmured back, trying to refocus on the math problem in front of her.

“Late night?”

Marinette looked up, her heart fluttering to see Adrien had twisted around in his seat to face them.

“Um, yeah,” Marinette said, trying to order her thoughts. “That super hero’s design thing. I’m almost done.”

Alya’s face lit up. “Do you have pictures?” she asked. “Mine’s done but I’m going to spend the next year of my life trying to scrub black dye off my mom’s counters. I’m actually lucky to still be alive.”

“No pictures,” Marinette said with a small grin. “Kind of forgot to take some, but I guess now it’ll be a surprise.”

“I bet it looks awesome,” Adrien said. “It’s based of Chat Noir, right?”

“Yeah,” Marinette said. Her pulse jumped at the heroes name, and she reflexively grabbed her wrist, as though someone would notice. That was new. “It’s also kind of influenced by my mom’s culture. I learned a lot of new techniques working on it.”

“He’s lucky,” Adrien said breezily, “Getting a Dupain-Cheng original based off him. I’m surprised you didn’t choose Ladybug.” He paused, as though a thought had just occurred to him. “Why did you choose Chat Noir?”

To her horror, Marinette felt a blush creeping over her cheeks. “Oh, no particular reason. I mean he’s saved me a couple of times, and he’s always been…really kind, and sweet. And charming. Besides, Ladybug’s always the focus. I thought it would be, um, cool to challenge myself a little.”

Adrien grinned, leaning in. “You think he’s charming?”

Marinette fought the urge to fan herself. “Doesn’t…everyone?”

“Ladybug doesn’t,” Alya snorted. “I mean, you can tell she can see right through him.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said softly, “She always could.”

Marinette frowned at the odd phrasing, but before she could think on it, the door burst open, knocking over the garbage bin and banging off the wall.

Hawkmoth’s villains had always been easy to spot, but Marinette remembered a time, barely, where the appearance of one made her panic so hard it was almost impossible to think. Now it felt like second nature as she grabbed Alya’s wrist and dove under the desk as the classroom erupted into panicked shrieks.

“Do you think that was the teacher?” Alya panted, ripping her phone out of her pocket.

“I didn’t exactly get a good look,” Marinette said as she reached for her backpack. “If it’s not, then the teacher was probably a victim of whatever this one can do. Either way, I don’t think we should stick around to find out.”

“You’re not wrong,” Alya said, slowly sliding her phone out from behind the desk, “But it’s still in front of the door. No way to get past it yet.”

She was probably right, but Marinette thought she could have sounded at least a little more broken up about it.

“Well, well, well, my pets,” the villain said. Marinette could see it surveying the classroom on Alya’s phone screen, a cool grin in place. This one was completely black, with a band of white across its eyes. She couldn’t see where the akuma could be hiding, but releasing it without Ladybug to purify it was a dangerous risk - assuming anyone could even get close enough to try. “So many of you in one place. What are the odds?” It took a few steps further into the room, but was still blocking the door. “Which one of you is most likely to bring Ladybug and Chat Noir running faster?”

Beside her, Alya flinched. “Not again…”

Chat Noir’s warning came back to Marinette and she couldn’t suppress a shiver. There had been a handful of akuma attacks since the last time he’d visited and none of them had targeted her. Surely nothing had changed. And did it matter? The monster was here in her classroom; she’d make just as good a hostage as anyone else.

And then Alya stood up, the strap of her book bag clutched in one hand. “Ladybug and Chat Noir aren’t the ones you need to worry about!” Alya swung her bag once, twice around her head and flung it at the villain. It sailed through the air, clipping them on the shoulder.

“We have a volunteer!” the akuma cheered, recovering with alarming speed.

“More than one!” Nino shouted, popping up from his desk as well.

“Don’t forget about me!” Kim chimed in, lurching to his feet.

There was a sudden deluge of school supplies, and the akuma was forced to come further into the room to avoid the storm. Marinette watched on Alya’s propped-up phone as pens, pencils, books, bags, and even tablets rained down at the front of the room.

Marinette clutched her bag in her hand, prepared to join the fray when she remembered Chat Noir’s request. _Stay safe_. Fighting the akuma head on would definitely not be safe, but in her heart she knew it was right. And, she thought guiltily, what he’d actually asked her was not to wear a Miraculous again. Besides, trouble had come to her door. She wasn’t going to not do something about it. Not when her friends were in danger. Not ever.

“Ha!” Marinette sprung up, whipping her bag in the direction of the akuma. It missed by a mile without Miraculous enhanced skills, but the akuma still flinched. She counted that as a victory.

“Run!” Alya shouted at everyone else. “We’ll keep it busy! Go! Sound the alert, evacuate the school!”

Marinette saw a few of their classmates shoot guilty looks at them before running for the door, and for the first time, she thought she might understand Chat Noir’s request a little more. She didn’t feel abandoned or left behind; she felt relieved they were no longer in the line of fire, that she could focus without worrying about casualties. It was different when it was someone you knew.

“You'll keep me busy?” the akuma shrieked, suddenly darting towards them. “I don’t think so!”

The akuma reached into a pouch at their side that Marinette hadn’t seen before. They opened their first to reveal a small pile of sparkling white sand that they blew directly in their faces. Before Marinette could blink, Alya shoved her. Marinette’s heel caught on the leg of the desk and she fell back onto the steps in the middle of the classroom.

Marinette looked up in horror as Alya fell back against the desk behind them. Her friend was scowling as she scrubbed at her face, but her expression quickly turned to panic. “I can’t - I can’t see. I _can’t see_!” Marinette stifled a horrified gas as her friend’s face turned towards her: her eyes had gone completely white. She couldn’t even distinguish where the iris and pupil were supposed to have been. “Don’t let them get the sand in your face!” Alya cried, twisting to face the rest of the classroom. “It blinds you!”

As she watched, Marinette noticed some of the colour fading from her vision. Alya had pushed her, but not fast enough. Not slow enough either. After a few second, the desaturation stopped. Shadows and highlights were stronger, but she could still see.

“Come on,” Marinette whispered. She grabbed Alya around the wrist and carefully lead her friend towards the door as the akuma leapt to the other side of the classroom to wreak havoc. She tried not to think of her friends’ completely white eyes. Chat Noir and Ladybug would save them. They’d fix it.

Marinette’s heart pounded as they made it into the hall. They had to get away. Could they make it home? Was it safe? Was it more risky to take Alya out of the school?

“Leave me,” Alya said as though reading her mind. “It can’t hurt me anymore, Marinette, it’s fine.”

“Not a chance,” Marinette said. “I’m not leaving you like this.”

“And you don’t have to.” Ladybug dropped in from the open atrium roof, her expression like a thundercloud. “Get out of here. We’ll fix this.”

“Ladybug’s here now,” Marinette said to Alya. “And Chat Noir.”

Marinette tried to ignore the way her pulse raced as Ladybug’s partner dropped in beside her. Her skin tingled where he’d touched her last, and she didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked over her from top to bottom, assessing any damage. His gaze lingered on her eyes, and she realized that even though they might not be completely white, they probably weren’t their usual shade of blue.

“You ladies ok?” he asked.

“Alya was struck,” Marinette said. “It has sand in a pouch on its belt. It blinds you if you’re hit with it.”

“It said it was looking for hostages but not much else beyond that,” Alya said.

“We’ll fix this.” Ladybug laid a hand on Alya’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Go hide,” Chat Noir instructed them. “We’ll fix this.” And then, silently, so quick she almost missed it with her damaged vision: _I miss you_.

And then he was gone, following Ladybug into the classroom.

“Come on.” Marinette began leading Alya down the hall. “In here.”

They ducked into a bathroom. Marinette lead Alya over to the sinks and turned on the tap, guiding her friends’ hands under the running water. As Alya scrubbed at her face, Marinette leaned into her reflection, squinting as she tried to make out the colours. It wasn’t as bad as the damage done to her friend, but a white film had definitely settled over her eyes.

“We’re in the bathroom on the second floor by the art room,” Marinette explained. “Do you think we’re ok here?”

Alya shrugged. “Like I said, the worst has already been done. You should go though, Marinette.”

“I’m not leaving you behind,” Marinette stubbornly reiterated. She guided her friend over to the far wall, where they both sank down on the floor. She tried to think of a way to pass the time, but anxiety wouldn’t let her focus on anything but Chat Noir.

She knew what he’d asked her, and really, it only made sense. She understood, but… _something_ in her wouldn’t settle. She had only herself, but she found herself struggling not to tear back down the hall and fight with him. Something in her kept telling her she couldn’t let him do it alone.

But he wasn’t alone, she kept reminding herself. Ladybug was with him. They were a team. She was just… she didn’t even know what she was any more.

“I’ll be back,” Marinette said when she couldn’t stand it any longer, almost against her will.

“Where are you going?” Alya said, pressing her palms flat against the floor as though to remind herself it was still there.

“It’s been too long,” Marinette said, her hands curling into fists. “They need help.”

She almost expected Alya to stop her, or tell her she was being ridiculous.

“Give it hell for me,” she said instead. “And if you happen to find my phone…” Alya grinned.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Marinette said with a smile of her own. She opened the door and flinched as the sounds of battle leaked into the bathroom. She peeked out through the crack she’d made in the door.

The akuma was pressing Chat Noir down the hall as it flung fistfuls of sand down the hall. He was managing to dodge them, but Marinette could tell he was in a similar situation to herself. Ladybug was no where in sight.

Marinette held her breath as they actually passed the bathroom, squeezing her eyes shut as the akuma released another cloud of sand. She silently counted to fifteen. When she opened her eyes again, the fight had just moved past the door and she slipped out into the hall behind the akuma.

Short of an actual plan, Marinette didn’t think, she just leapt - directly onto the akuma’s back, wrapping her arms around its throat. It shrieked as she yanked back on it, and as it moved, she realized Chat Noir was much worse off than she thought, his iris only just barely visible.

“Chat Noir, the pouch!” she yelled.

His ears flicked forward. “Marinette?”

“Hurry!” she urged as her hands started to slip.

“You call this staying safe?” he demanded, lunging forward.

“You seem like you could…use the help,” she panted, adjusting her grip.

“You don’t belong here, Marinette,” he snapped. “You’re going to get yourself hurt, or worse.”

Wait, was he actually _mad_ at her?

“Well, excuse me for saving you,” Marinette retorted. “ _Again_.”

Chat Noir winced, and she felt bad for even bringing it up, but he wasn’t being fair. He didn’t bother with a retort as he redoubled his efforts, but she suddenly realized he was attacking more wildly than before.

 _He’s afraid he’s going to hit me by mistake_ , she realized. Alright, time for a new plan.

Marinette released her grip. She slid down the akuma’s back and made no move to stop herself as she hit the ground. As she did, she reached out, snatching the pouch as she went by and tearing it off the akuma. It shrieked as she did so, but Marinette didn’t give it a chance to turn on her.

“Chat Noir!” she yelled, “Cataclysm!”

Marinette dove through the akuma’s feet as Chat Noir activated his power. She seized his wrist as she came to her feet and slapped the pouch down in his hand. She bit back a whimper of pain as the contact sent cataclysm shockwaves rocketing through her hand. She snatched her hand back, but not before angry purple bruises bloomed on her skin.

“Ladybug, now!” Chat Noir yelled as the akuma drifted free. Moments later, the magical swarm of ladybugs surged out of the classroom. A small detachment of them spiralled around Marinette’s hand, easing the pain of what she guessed were several fractures.

Ladybug darted out of the classroom and leapt onto the balcony down the hall, her gaze fixed on the escaping butterfly. “I’ll take care of this.” They watched her disappear through the open atrium roof.

The beeping of Chat Noir’s ring broke the silence. He turned without another word and walked away down the hall.

“Hey!” Marinette called, running after him. “That’s it? You’re just going to leave?”

“What do you want me to say, Marinette?” Chat Noir demanded, whirling on her. “‘Thanks for needlessly risking your life after I specifically asked you not to’?”

“Needlessly?” Marinette repeated. “You were seconds away from losing your Miraculous!”

“This is my fault,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I blurred the lines. I never should have let you get this close.”

Marinette tried not to show how much the admission hurt her. “You have been one of the best things in my life for a while,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

He met her gaze, but none of the warmth she’d grown used to it was in his eyes. “This was a mistake,” he said evenly. “Kissing you was a mistake. Getting distracted was a mistake.”

“Is that…is that really what all this was…? A distraction?”

Chat Noir turned, and without looking at her, said, “Yes.”

He left before she could stop him. Her heart ached as she watched him disappear. She took a few steps after him, as though to follow, but she never could. She didn’t have a Miraculous. They had never been on equal footing.

That night, Marinette didn’t bother leaving the window open.


	20. My Love Is The Killing Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dude, we're getting the band back together!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I had no idea people would be so responsive to the last chapter! I'm glad you, um, enjoyed it, per se XD Needless to say you inspired me, and I'm sure you'll love this one just as much! :)
> 
> xoxo, Kitti

Adrien had screwed up.

He’d screwed up all of it. He’d never been more sure of anything in his life, but the hardest part had been staying away instead of running back to her with flowers and apologies. He’d put off patrolling two nights in a row for that reason. He was painfully aware of just how much he’d hurt her, but his words had been as much for himself as they’d been for her. He’d needed to hear the truth. They both had.

He’d known it had been a mistake to lean on her, but he was hurting, and she was so kind, and…and it was all an excuse. Fear had driven him to her balcony and fear had driven him away. It was better to put the wall back in place. He couldn’t stand to lose her, too, not after…

And that had always been the case, probably half the reason for his feelings for his Lady. Who he was, what he did, would come between him and any person he had feelings for, except for the one person who could understand it.

Adrien raised a picture he’d been holding in his right hand back over his face. It was one of the riskiest things he owned: a never-before seen by anyone picture of his Lady, a shot no one but Chat Noir would have been able to take from a patrol a few months ago. After all, who else could get to the top of the Arc d’Triomphe? He’d insisted it was nothing more than a photo of the beautiful sunset, but he’d angled it so that his Lady was in the frame. The reds and purples and golds in the backgrounds were stunning, but what was a sunset compared to her face?

And what was a little heartache compared to Marinette’s safety?

Groaning, Adrien let his hand flop back down to the mattress. How had he ended up here?

“You know, I think you were on the right track,” Plagg said, drifting over Adrien’s face. “You should go apologize to that girl. Take her some cheese - on me.”

“Very generous,” Adrien said, rolling his eyes as he twisted onto his side. “You just want things to be easy. That’s not how love works.”

“Are you saying you’re in love with that girl?” Plagg asked, dive-bombing the sheets. 

“Isn’t that what you keep insisting?” Adrien grumbled, rolling his eyes. 

“I still think I had a point,” Plagg said primly. 

“All I did was hurt her,” Adrien admitted, sitting up. “I don’t deserve to drag her into this. It’s safer for her if I don’t come around, and better for me. Marinette deserves someone who can give her their whole heart, and I…Chat Noir wouldn’t make a very good boyfriend anyway. Sooner or later the mask would come between us. It never would have worked.”

“And what if she needs saving?”

Adrien couldn’t help a small smile. “Marinette’s never needed saving.”

Plagg frowned. “Anymore thoughts on Trixx’s little message?”

Adrien groaned, throwing his hands over his eyes. “None. Could he have been anymore cryptic? ‘Look for what’s not there’? I mean, what does he think I’ve been doing this whole time? I feel like I have all the pieces, I just need to put them together.”

“You do,” Plagg said, swirling closer. “You can do it.”

“Can you tell me anything else?” Adrien asked. He’d asked before, but Plagg hadn’t been able to come up with anything new. 

“She’s always been just one step behind you,” Plagg said, frustration bleeding into his voice. “You just never…you never saw her, Adrien.”

“One step behind…”

An alarm chimed on Adrien’s phone, and he instantly recognized the alert reserved for akuma’s. He snatched it up, opening Nadja’s live news feed. Once again, his Lady would have to wait.

Adrien frowned, devouring details. He could easily recognize the Louvré plaza in the background as Nadja huddled behind a tree.

“…ments ago an akuma appeared at the Louvré museum where preparations were being made to restore several historical paintings. The akuma - oh my!”

The camera panned over Nadja’s shoulder to the plaza where Adrien could see the monster had appeared. His heart stuttered at the sight of the truly wicked looking blade the thing was carrying. He was a good fencer, but the broad-sword was definitely designed for crushing; he doubted his slender baton could take the brunt of it. Hopefully Red’s lucky charm would be a little more durable. 

“Time to go,” Adrien said, standing. “Plagg - ”

“Um, Adrien?! It looks like you’re already there.”

Adrien froze, then snatched his phone back up. 

Sure enough, two superheroes had appeared in the plaza. They certainly looked like them, but if the past two months had taught him anything, it was that nothing was as it seemed. 

“Senti-monsters?” Adrien wondered out loud.

Plagg shrugged. “Anything’s possible, I guess. It’s happened before, but to what end?”

“Another mass akumatization?” Adrien suggested. 

“Possible,” Plagg said again, “But risky. It didn’t work the last time, and we have the Miracle Box. We could show up with a team to fight him, but maybe he’s counting on Ladybug’s inexperience to take you down.”

“So the best thing then would be to show up?”

“Maybe try calling Chloe first,” Plagg suggested. “If she picks up, you know this is probably a trap.”

“Good idea,” Adrien said, already dialling. Sure enough, it went straight to voice mail. “Looks like that’s really her out there,” he said. He slid his phone back into his pocket and dropped into his desk chair to pull up the live feed on his computer instead. 

The fight had continued on and he saw Ladybug call for her lucky charm. 

“I have a bad feeling,” Adrien said as he watched. A pit had formed in his stomach. “I think we should get out there. Even if that cat’s a fake, two is better than one.”

“Wait, look!”

Adrien looked back at the screen to see another familiar figure join the fray. “Felix?”

“I still don’t like that kid,” Plagg grumbled. 

But as they watched, it became apparent that Felix wasn’t fighting with Ladybug and ‘Chat Noir’ - he was fighting against them. Adrien’s eyes grew wider and wider as he took in the scene.

“And I was right!” Plagg exclaimed, squishing his face against the computer screen and beating it with his tiny paws. “I knew it! You can’t trust him! I’M GOING TO CATACLYSM HIS FACE OFF.”

“For once I think we’re on the same page!” Adrien stood so abruptly his chair toppled over. “Plagg, claws out!”

The transformation took seconds. When it was over, Chat Noir leaned into the computer screen to take one more look at the scene, but what he saw made him freeze.

The ‘Chat Noir’ on screen had fallen, his back to the camera, barely concealed by some rubble. The akuma was no where to be found. As he watched, Felix landed a blow that sent Ladybug flying. She fell hard and she, too, didn’t get up. Felix crossed the plaza and bent to the two heroes. Twin flashes of green and pink light briefly lit the afternoon, and when they faded, Felix was standing, his arm outstretched over the two figures, now in plain clothes - clothes that didn’t look like anything in Adrien’s closet. The dim light of the sun glinted off something in his cousins’ palm. 

The Miraculous. 

“Hawkmoth!” Felix shouted. “The Miraculous are mine now. If you want them, come and get them - tonight at the Eiffel Tower, midnght. If you’re not there, I’ll assume you’re not interested.”

“What the hell,” Chat Noir muttered. Enough. This had gone on long enough. He turned and made for the window, ripping his baton free as he went. As he did, he noticed the paw print softly flashing, indicating missed messages. “Oh, this should be good. ‘Hey Adrien, I hope you didn’t think I would just give you the Miracle Box; I think the Ladybug and Black Cat are a fair trade!’ He’s going to be real surprised when the black cat turns out to be…. to be… well, a fake of some sort.”

Scowling, he played the messages. The first one was from Red.

“Where have you been? Salem and I have been trying to get in touch with you all day. I know you’re still mopey about Ladybug and having to be saved by a civvy or whatever, but we seriously need you to pull it together! Get back to one of us; we can’t keep waiting for you.”

The next two were from Felix:

“I was hoping to intercept you on one of your patrols, but I haven’t been able to find you. I’ve come up with a plan. Actually, I kind of borrowed it. Hawkmoth is getting more volatile. It can’t wait anymore.”

And then:

“I’m sorry, Chat Noir, I waited as long as I could. Hopefully you get these messages before you come to kill me. You can yell at me after we beat Hawkmoth, and then you can have Trixx back. He’s eating me out of house and home. Tonight. Eiffel Tower. Midnight. Don’t make me come get you.”

Chat Noir turned back to look at the footage on his computer. The Louvré plaza was completely empty. In fact, the rubble had disappeared as well, like smoke on the wind - or a mirage in a desert.

“And illusion,” he muttered, understanding dawning on him. “A fake take down to lure Hawkmoth out of hiding and into a false sense of security. Brilliant. Stupid, but somehow still brilliant. Plagg, claws in.”

Adrien had a piece of cheese ready for the kwami as he reappeared, a peace offering more than anything else. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe you cataclysmed him like we agreed,” Plagg pouted, devouring the cheese. 

“New plan,” Adrien explained. “Felix used Trixx to create the illusion of the fight to lure Hawkmoth out. Tonight’s the night. We’ve only got a few hours to prepare.”

Plagg frowned. “Prepare?”

“Hawkmoth won’t come alone,” Adrien said, flicking the switch that would bring up his piano. “We won’t either. We need the team.”

“But…they’re all compromised,” Plagg said. “Hawkmoth will - ”

“Will what?” Adrien said, opening the piano bench where no one ever cleaned. Inside, near the bottom and covered in sheet music, was the Miracle box. “After tonight, he won’t be a threat. If all goes well, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“It’s risky, Adrien,” Plagg cautioned nervously. 

“It’s never been anything else,” Adrien said. “Besides, I’m the guardian now. We finally have the advantage. I won’t waste it.” He paused, staring at the lid of the box. “I haven’t gotten to make a lot of choices in the past few months, but this is one I can make. And Felix was right about one thing: taking down Hawkmoth is the only way it’ll be safe to find my Lady and set things back to right.”

“Well, we’ve got a lot of stops to make,” Plagg said. 

“Then we better get started. Plagg, claws out!”

Chat Noir picked up the Miracle box, stashing it in a satchel and slinging it around his shoulders. He’d have to be fast, but he paused on his way to the window and picked a single pink rose from the vase on his desk. 

Maybe the real mistake had been asking Marinette to be anything other than who she was. Maybe it had been not trusting himself enough. Maybe it had been allowing fear to cloud his judgement. Maybe it was all of those things.

Whatever the case, he hoped it wasn’t too late to set things to right. 

Maybe if he’d left a little sooner, it wouldn’t have been.

But while Chat Noir leapt into the night, the Miracle Box at his hip and hope in his heart, he had no way of knowing he was racing an akuma.

Or that he was going the wrong way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	21. Zouyu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bernie Sanders Voice: I am once again! urging readers to proceed with caution. You _need_ to be in a good headspace for this chapter. I can't think of any triggers, but it's definitely emotionally rigorous. I know some of you didn't take my last warning to heart; hopefully this time you take me a little more seriously ;)
> 
> No Major Character Death, No Self-Harm, No Violence, but death IS mentioned. 
> 
> And remember you can't see a rainbow without the storm
> 
> \- Kitti <3

Marinette stared at her gown.

It was time for the final fitting, she knew. It was due in three days, and if it was going to be ready, she had to try it on now. It was perfect, just how she’d imagined it would turn out, the green accents stunning against the dark background.

But after the events earlier in the week, the last thing she wanted to do was put the dress on. 

The angry, embarrassed part of her wanted to take the money she’d saved for the fabric and throw it at his feet, if only to make the gown feel like her own again. The rational part of her knew that it was his right to choose, and even if the truth had hurt to hear, it was still the truth. She’d worn the mask, and though it was temporary, the idea of Hawkmoth discovering her identity - or targeting someone she loved because of it - had given her nightmares before.

A small part of her just wanted to cry, but she hadn’t been able to. So she’d worked instead. She’d added decorative beading to the bodice, put together a glittering gold hair stick with pink flowers from the tip, added full lining to the skirt. It was truly one of her best pieces. Anyone that looked at it would be able to tell that it was made with love.

Marinette bit her lip as she spun in her chair to her box of scrap fabric. It wasn’t too late to make a new outfit. She’d worked under shorter deadlines. Maybe she could salvage some of the black fabric, do something Ladybug or Rena Rouge inspired.

But…

Marinette looked back at the dress. She didn’t have it in her to take it apart. She didn’t _want_ to. No matter what had happened between them, her reasons for making this dress hadn’t changed. Chat Noir was still a hero of Paris, still sweet and kind and funny and brave, and she still loved those things about him. She still thought he deserved to be the subject of her project. She still wanted to give recognition to him with it.

The only thing she didn’t want to do was put it on.

But, since the photos for the project were to be taken in three days in order to complete the assignment, she didn’t have much of a choice. No matter how stunning the piece was, an ill-fitting garment meant mistakes made from the get-go and she would lose marks. 

Well, better get it over with. 

Marinette sighed as she climbed to her feet, wishing her mom was home to help her get into it, but they were catering an event for the Mayor. She tried to remain analytical as she got changed. The structure of the bodice seemed firm due to the stiff strengthening layer of duck canvas between the layers. She’d decided to forgo boning, both for comfort and maneuverability, but it had made the skirt much heavier than she’d thought it would be. 

Once she’d done up the clasps along the front, Marinette kicked off her flats and, lifting the skirt, slid on a pair go black kitten heels she owned for special occasions. She’d specifically left the hem long with the intention of the heels adding about two inches to her frame.

Marinette glanced in the floor length mirror by her desk and her breath caught. 

The silhouette of the dress was stunning. The added height wasn’t much, but she’d anticipated it just right in her measurements and the hem landed just centimetres over the floor. The mermaid style was everything she’d hoped it would be. Chat Noir had been right; the extra drama was so him.

“It’s just a try on,” Marinette reminded herself as she fingered the green piping, but she found her hand going to the hair piece she’d designed. She hesitated for just a moment before committing to it. “Might as well see the whole thing,” she reasoned as she pulled out her pig tails. 

She carefully pulled her hair back into a bun, sliding the hair piece in carefully by the band and leaving the cherry blossoms to dangle. They, of course, were her personal signature, in lieu of her name anywhere on the gown - and a small, unrecognizable nod to the very short time she’d been his friend. Altogether, the look was…

“Purr-fect.” 

Marinette slapped a hand over her mouth, shocked the pun had even slipped out, and then she was bent over at the waist laughing. She gasped for breath, but every time she started to calm down, peals of laughter would overtake her again. It was too much. She slid to the floor, clutching her stomach as the fabric pooled around her like she was sitting in the middle of a black puddle. 

“Oh, god,” she gasped, leaning back against her chaise. “How? How do I always manage to find myself in the middle of these things? …then again….”

Maybe ‘find herself’ was being too generous; no one had forced her down this path. She’d made choices, too. She’d left the window open. 

Marinette sighed as her phone chimed with yet another alert. It had been dinging periodically for nearly an hour now, but she’d made herself promise she wouldn’t look at the notifications until she found the will to try on her dress. She’d hoped the possible messages from Adrien would have been good motivation to get it over with, but it had only really made it harder; he was just as unattainable to her as Chat Noir.

But, the dress was on, and even though she hadn’t made notes yet, she supposed her own requirements had technically been met. Besides, if it was Alya, it would only be minutes before her friend showed up at the door afraid she’d tripped and fell off her own balcony while her parents were out. 

Marinette pushed herself to her feet and snagged her phone off the chaise as she began to make for her notebook by her empty mannequin, but became perfectly still as her screen lit up.

‘PARIS’ HEROES FALL’

In the empty quiet, Marinette found herself falling off that precipice again. This time there was no one there to catch her; just the endless sensation of falling, and knowing that any second now she was going to find the bottom.

She couldn’t even see the rest of the notifications. The headline glaring from the Parisian alert system blotted everything out. Her thumb shook as it hovered over the screen, as if if she just didn’t open the alert, it wouldn’t be true.

In the space between breaths, she opened it. A blurry photo she barely recognized as Salem in front of the Louvré glass pyramids was displayed over the article.

‘In a shocking turn of events, both Ladybug and Chat Noir were defeated today by a villain the likes of which Paris has never seen before. The newcomer’s intentions are unclear at this time, as he stopped only long enough to issue a challenge to Hawkmoth directly. While the identities of Paris’s saviours remain shrouded in mystery, authorities have been unable to recover their bodies. Though nothing is certain, it appears unlikely that the duo Paris owes so much to will be found alive.’

_Unlikely they will be found alive._

Marinette heard her her phone slip through her fingers onto the floor, but she couldn’t feel it. It sounded so far away. She couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t she breathe?

She felt something warm on her cheeks. She reached up to her face. Her hand came away wet. Crying. She was finally crying. Finally.

And then she was screaming as her knees hit the floor. Sobs wracked her body. Her chest heaved. She had finally reached bottom. It was desolate. It hurt. Why did it hurt so much? Why? Like she’d lost part of herself. Like she could have done more. Like she was responsible. Like her heart was being ripped in two, over and over, and over.

“I never…I never got to…apologize,” she gasped out, wrapping her arms around herself. Cold. She felt so cold. “I’ll never… get to….for any of it.”

She didn’t even know his name. She never would. She’d never seem him traversing the Notre Dame again. She’d never leave her window open for him again. He’d never joke, laugh, or flirt with her again. He’d never save her again. She’d never save him.

Maybe she’d never been able to. Maybe that had been the point all along.

Marinette never even noticed the little purple butterfly drift through her skylight.

And so, she never stood a chance when it buried itself in the cherry blossoms on her hairpiece.

It felt like being struck by lightning. Every muscle in Marinette’s body locked. She gasped as her spine arched with the agony of it. Her grief and guilt multiplied until she felt like she was drowning in it.

_Anyone can be akumatized, Marinette. Anyone._

The warning echoed briefly through her mind, and then it was gone, along with everything else that had ever made her who she was, until all that remained was the despair.

_‘Zouyu, I am Hawkmoth.’_

The words ricocheted through her head like church bells, both deafening and terrible. She seized it like a lifeline. Anything that would make this horrible misery survivable.

_‘I understand your pain; the loss of a loved one is unbearable.’_

“I can’t…stand it,” she managed. “I can’t…”

_‘I know. Ladybug has cost us both the lives of our dearest ones. It’s too late for her, but I can grant you the power to destroy the person who took everything from you. All I ask in return is your aid in securing the Miraculous.’_

“Salem.”

Agony swirled through her. She breathed it in, embracing the power offered to her. She wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything before. She wanted to make the murderer pay. She wanted revenge.

“Yes, Hawkmoth” she said. Black smoke began to billow around her. “I’m in.”

She felt his smile more than she saw it, but the sensation was obliterated as the transformation took hold of her.

_‘Excellent.’_


	22. Invisible String

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir goes absolutely fucking feral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As previously stated, we STAN ALYA CESAIRE
> 
> P.S, who else had to recover after T Swift dropped that new album? Just me? Ok.

Chat Noir was exhausted, but cautiously optimistic. 

The city was near-silent beneath him as he cut a path towards the Eiffel Tower, as though every Parisian were holding their breath. The clock on his baton told him he had just under half an hour to make it there, but he wasn’t worried. Even if he was a few minutes late, Felix and Chloe wouldn’t be facing Hawkmoth alone.

He glanced behind him, searching the shadows, but they remained empty. Maybe, he thought, she just wasn’t coming.

Marinette’s balcony had been his final stop that night. The light had been on, but the room had been empty. He’d been disappointed, but hope had urged him to leave the mouse Miraculous and the pink rose on her desk. It wasn’t half the apology he’d wanted to give her, but it would have to do until he had an opportunity to talk with her. He hoped it would be enough for the time being.

But for now, he needed to focus. He hadn’t let himself dwell on the situation beyond what he’d told the others because it was too overwhelming, and none of it was guaranteed, but… if it went right, if they were successful, then everything would change. The world would come a little bit back into balance.

Adrenaline burst through Chat Noir’s system as the Eiffel Tower came into view. Though devoid of any activity, every light on it was lit, as though to give them their best advantage. 

He stopped short of the Tower itself, angling instead for the Trocadero Gardens across the Seine. He landed silently on the steps where Felix had instructed they meet, and was hardly surprised when his cousin grabbed him roughly by the arm, yanking him into a deep shadow.

“Where have you been?” Felix demanded, releasing him with a little shove. 

“I’ve been running recruitment,” Chat Noir said with a grin. “And speaking of, I’m going to need Trixx.”

“Trixx?” Felix unconsciously wrapped a hand around the pendent at his throat. “Adrien, I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you, but you can’t seriously mean - ”

“Nothing like that,” Chat Noir cut his cousin off. “He just belongs with someone else - but I’m not leaving you defenceless by any means.” Chat Noir reached into the bag at his hip, pulling out the Miraculous from the box. 

Felix hesitated, staring at the little box in Chat Noir’s palm.

“You’re really giving me one?” he asked. Despite everything, Chat Noir realized his cousin really expected to, at the very least, punish him for his previous stunt.

“I really am,” Chat Noir said. “You did good here, Felix. No one’s perfect; you deserve the same chance Chloé got. Will you take it?”

For once, Felix actually smiled. “Trixx, let’s rest.”

The kwami spiralled out of the necklace, coming to rest in Felix’s palm. He seized on the snap peas Felix had produced and scarfed them down. He continued to eat even as Felix removed the necklace and picked up the new box.

“Hey, Trixx,” Chat Noir said, accepting the necklace. “Ready to play with an old friend?”

“You found her then?” Trixx asked, drifting towards his Miraculous.

Chat Noir hid a wince. “Not yet. It’s still work in progress. Hopefully after tonight it’ll be safe enough to try.”

They both winced at the burst of yellow light as Felix opened the lid of the new box.

“Greetings, my King!” Pollen rose gracefully out of their box, executing a bow as they went. “I’m Pollen of the Bee Miraculous; I grant the power of subjugation. To activate the Miraculous, simply say ‘Buzz on’.”

“This is going to raise a lot of questions,” Felix muttered as he slid the comb into his hair, “But…thank you.”

“You’ve earned it,” Chat Noir said simply. “Remember the time limit.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “How could I forget? Alright, get going. Remember to wait for the signal.”

“Got it,” Chat Noir said. “Rena Rouge will take care of your illusion. See you out there.”

Chat Noir left, heading for the second meeting spot he’d arranged that night as a yellow flash briefly lit the shadows of the Trocadero. 

“Carapace?”

A voice drifted from the shadows. “Over her, du - Chat Noir.”

Chat Noir could make out a dozen forms among the dark struts of the Eiffel Tower, all talking quietly. The multitude of colours were muted in the night, but what they were was unmistakable.

“Alya?” he asked, stopping beside his friend.

“Right here,” she said, stepping up beside Carapace.

Chat Noir held out the box. “Ready?”

“So ready,” she said quietly. He’d never seen her quiet before, but he didn’t think he was imagining the glistening of her eyes as she took the Miraculous. “I never thought I’d ever get to do this again.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Chat Noir warned. “But tonight we need all hands on deck.”

“I understand,” Alya said quickly. “I just…I didn’t know last time would be the last time. Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t have anyone else with me,” Chat Noir said. He meant it, too. His Lady had chosen these people - well, most of them. They all loved her almost as much as he did. Even though she wasn’t there, it was almost like having her unbreakable spirit with them. 

“I see the gang’s all here,” Red said, dropping in beside him.

“Almost,” Chat Noir admitted. He couldn’t help a glance over his shoulder, as though she might still show up. 

“It’s interesting,” Red mused, glancing over their team mates. “Almost the entirety of Mme. Bustier’s class from Francois Dupont High School - with two notable exceptions.”

Chat Noir stiffened. No. No way. “Marinette might show up yet,” he said as his heart began to pound.

“She’s not who I’m interested in,” Red said, leaning in. “It’s you - Adrien.”

Chat Noir stifled a frustrated sigh. “This is unbelievable.”

Red actually scoffed. “It’s hardly rocket science. You haven’t exactly been subtle.”

“You of all people know you can’t give a Miraculous away to just any one,” he said. “They’re too dangerous.”

Her wince was barely noticeably. “You just better hope no one else notices the pattern, Adrichat,” she whispered. 

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, deciding it was best to move on to other topics.

“Yeah,” Red said after a moment. She turned to look out over the city, crossing her arms against an invisible chill she never could have felt through the suit. “I am, but…it doesn’t feel right to do this without her.”

A hint of pain and regret twisted through Chat Noir’s gut, but he couldn’t let it hurt him, not here, not now. “I know,” he agreed. “But it’s the only way to get her back.”

“You know how to restore her memory then?” she asked. She glanced back at him but he avoided her gaze.

“I have a few theories,” Chat Noir said, but he didn’t elaborate. “Let’s get through tonight first.”

“I’ll help you, you know,” Red said. “I… everyone knows how Chat Noir feels about Ladybug. I know you must be missing her. Besides,” she grinned, “I’ve gotta get rid of this kwami; she won’t eat anything but the best pastries in Paris. And I thought I was fussy.”

Beneath them, one of the lamps surrounding the plaza abruptly flickered out. Chat Noir felt the small hairs on the back of his neck stiffen.

“It’s time.”

Red nodded. “See you on the other side.”

Chat Noir saluted her and made his way to the darkest shadow in the structure where Rena Rouge was waiting for him. It deepened as another lamp went out. He felt more than he saw her shudder as he landed.

“I’ve dreamed of punching Hawkmoth right in the face,” she whispered, “But this…”

“It feels like a trap,” Chat Noir admitted. 

“Yeah.”

“It may be.” He stifled his frustration. “We have no way of knowing. Improvisation’s always been my stronger suit.” Even so, he’d done all he could to prepare.

Nothing, however, could prepare him for what he saw seconds later in the plaza.

It was the most stunningly beautiful, horrific akuma he’d ever seen in his life. Worse, he knew her.

“…Marinette?”

He recognized the gown, and in a terrible blinding flash, he realized it hadn’t been on the mannequin when he’d dropped by her place. Now he knew why. 

It wasn’t the project she’d been building over the past past couple of weeks; instead of black, the fabric had turned a brilliant, violent red. Black edging lined the silhouette. The hem, which had once flared out into a dramatic train, was in ashy tatters. Her hair tumbled loosely around her shoulders, longer and darker than he’d ever seen it before. The top half had been pulled back into a bun, the only ornamentation a hair stick decorated in midnight black flowers. Her skin was so pale she looked like a spectre. Her eyes had gone completely black.

All Chat Noir could do was stare. “How…did this…how…”

“Oh, Marinette.”

He whipped to Rena Rouge. She, too, was staring at the figure in the plaza, sadness etched in her features.

“I tried to warn her,” she said. “Anyone can be akumatized.”

Nothing made sense. He couldn’t make it make sense. Rena Rouge wasn’t _wrong_ , but Marinette was the strongest person he knew. Sure, she could get upset like anyone, but she always seemed to be able to quickly get her emotions under control.

“Warn her?” he managed. His gaze had wandered back to the akuma. He couldn’t look away. It was like seeing a ghost. “Why did she need warning?”

“I don’t really know,” Rena Rouge said as another light flickered out. “A few months ago we were talking on the phone. She was really freaked out. She said there were these…gaps? She couldn’t remember anything about Hawkmoth, or you and Ladybug. It was so weird, but after we talked about it, she seemed to forget that she forgot. She never brought it up again. Maybe I should have.”

Chat Noir couldn’t breathe. As he stared at the girl in the plaza, a thousand little puzzle pieces fell into place.

_‘You love that girl’._

Plagg’s words were like a bullet to the chest. His kwami had tried to tell him in the only way he could. He couldn’t believe he’d missed it.

 _‘I think something’s wrong…I’m having trouble…’_ Remembering.

That was what she was going to tell him all those months ago. It had always been her, right in front of him this whole time. The reason she’d been so sure of her plan. His Lady…Marinette…the reason he’d been so confused about his feelings for both of them was because…

“Marinette is Ladybug.”

Beside him, Rena Rouge stiffened, and then sighed a little laugh. “Of course. Of course she is. Do I even want to ask how we ended up here?”

“No,” Chat Noir whispered through cold lips. “No, you really don’t.”

“But…then this means you’re going to have to fight her.”

“No,” Chat Noir said as fury finally ignited, burning away everything else. “I’m going to have to save her.” Adrenaline made his eyes fairly glow. “And then I’m going to make Hawkmoth pay for what he’s done to her.” 

For everything they’d sacrificed. For every sleepless night and broken heart and stolen kiss. For everything they might never get back. 

Felix was right; Hawkmoth had never played by the rules. This time, he’d crossed a line.

And Chat Noir was ready to get his claws dirty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! <3


	23. All The Kings Horses, All The Kings Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dementor, but make it Miraculous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CEO of 'Don't call me that'

Everything hurt.

Every movement, every breath, every step was pure agony, as though her body couldn’t contain the agony of the truth, and so it had bled into every fibre of her being.

As she made her way through the city streets, stealing the light from the lamps themselves as she passed, plunging the street into the same darkness she had found herself in hours ago. Minutes ago? She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t feel the passing of time, only this endless, pointless…nothingness. Her only direction was given to her by the voice that sometimes brooked the black waves, but she never knew where it came from and she could not follow it out.

 _‘Don’t forget, Zouyu,’_ it came again, _The Eiffel Tower at midnight.’_

 _‘Yes,’_ she responded. Or she thought she did. She didn’t know. The voice didn’t come back, and she continued down the street, the glittering tower in the distance her only guiding light. She ached to go there. She ached to go anywhere else. Neither option was better than the other, so she went.

“Are you…ok, lady?”

She paused at the words, unable to truly string them together, but the last one stuck, searing through her in a way she hadn’t expected it to. She shivered as the sound rolled through her and burrowed into what was left of her heart.

“Don’t…call…me…that…” She didn’t recognize the voice, didn’t feel her lips move, but a distant part of her realized it must have come from her. _“DON’T…CALL…ME…THAT.”_

She didn’t see their face. She barely saw the person. But she did see her hand on their throat. She saw her skin turn black, as though smoke stained the flesh, coating her forearms like evening gloves as the body jerked beneath her touch.

“No…please…” They fell to their knees, but she didn’t stop, couldn’t stop pulling their light. Even that didn’t penetrate the unending fog. She could feel it, the barest spark of something beyond, but it slipped away before she could grasp it.

The person dropped to the cobblestoned streets, moaning softly as tears leaked down their face.

She kept walking.   
She felt his presence before he slid into step beside her, the figure tall and imposing, emanating a cold violence nearly as potent as her own. 

“Right on time, Zouyu,” he said. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, but his countenance never wavered from the Tower. “Vengeance is within your grasp.”

“Yes.”

“Of course, in return, I have need of - ”

“The Miraculous.” She said the words, but they held little meaning. They were required in order to keep the searing pain at bay, to keep the lifeline firmly in her hand. “I know.”

“Then I shall meet you in the plaza,” Hawkmoth said. “I doubt our little interloper has come alone. That’s fine by me. After all this, it would be almost too easy to simply take the Miraculous from him.”

She didn’t respond, and after a moment he peeled away. Had she been capable, she might have noticed his stare, as though even he were perturbed by his own creation, but she didn’t, and her benefactor slipped back into the shadows. His presence never wavered, and she knew as she walked he was only steps behind her. Part of her recognized he was sending her in first as a decoy. She didn’t care. Whether she laid a hand on someone or they laid a hand on her, the blackhole in her soul would devour the light in hers. She was untouchable. 

The plaza was as still as a frozen lake as she set foot on the stones. It was so silent she could hear the swish of her skirts against the ground, a ghostly reminder of why she was there. The lamps lighting the plaza flickered and died in her wake as she approached the Tower. She paused in the middle of the plaza, but the lights continued to go out, the shadows growing longer with every doused lamp.

“Well, well, well, this is unexpected, if not a total surprise.” A figure stepped from the darkness at the base of the Tower, stopping several feet away from her. He wore a black suit with yellow details - one of Paris’ protectors then. She didn’t recognize him. She didn’t care. “My business isn’t with you. I’ll only talk to Hawkmoth, no one else.”

 _That_ got her attention. “Salem.”

“It’s Vespa now,” the boy said. He began to make some other snide remark, but she lunged abruptly, seeming to all the world to appear in front of him. She reached for his throat, but he dodged her. Her fingers brushed his shoulder, and she felt him shudder as they connected.

A haunted look crossed his eyes, only to be replaced immediately with a glare. “Not very nice,” he hissed, raising his fists. “Not very nice at all.”

“You…betrayed…him…” she said, lunging again. He ducked. She missed by inches. “You…betrayed… _me_.”

Vespa jumped back as she swiped again. “What are you talking about? I didn’t betray anybody! Unless…wait - !”

But he cut of in a sudden gasp as she gripped his shoulder. “This won’t…bring him back…but it’s what…you deserve.”

She sensed the attack moments before it happened, like the charge of electricity before a lightning strike. She dodged the sword as it came down, then seized Ryuuko’s wrist before she could bring it back up. She saw the other girl stiffen, but she also recognized the steely resolve in her face. She squeezed the hero’s wrist harder, drawing harder from her. Ryuuko cried out at the intensity, stumbling back.

Before she could react, arms went around the tops of her shoulders, binding her arms to her side. She sighed as she felt the powerful light begin to trickle into her. She tilted her head back until it rested on the broad shoulder of an Ox themed hero she didn’t recognize. Alarm lit his features, but before he could let go, she reached up to wrap her fingers around his forearm.

“Help…me,” she begged, pulling more and more of that light into her. Like the rest, it disappeared into the unending wave of darkness. More. She needed more. “Please.”

“How?” the hero asked desperately. “How?”

“More,” she whispered. “I need more. Give it to me.”

“Take it,” the hero offered. “As much as you need.”

“All of it.”

The heroes eyes closed behind his mask. “Yes.”

“Aurochs!”

She staggered as the figure at her back disappeared, the light disappearing with it. She wailed as she plunged suddenly back into the black waters. She twisted to find herself face to face with a hero in pink.

“We can help you!” the girl pleaded, holding out her hands placatingly. “Just show us where the akuma went and we can free you!”

Free her…to what end? She’d lost everything. There was nothing to go back to. All that was left to her was revenge, and then…a lifetime of emptiness.

And without it, she couldn’t make Salem pay.

So instead she swiped at the girl’s outstretched arm. The girl snatched her hand back, reaching instead for the weapons at her waist. The pale, thick shafts gleamed in the dim light, reminiscent of tusks. She reached for the girl again, but she batted her hand away with the weapons. 

As she reassessed, she became aware of the sounds of battle engaging elsewhere. Movement caught her eye, and she watched as a monster barrelled into the plaza. It bounced off a green shield and roared. Another look revealed Hawkmoth facing off against an unseen opponent.

And surrounding her were various heroes in multicoloured costumes, a shock of colour that hurt her eyes. They stood in a ring, arms out as though afraid she might attempt to barrel past them, as though she had anywhere else to be. Aurochs lay a few feet away, his head in the lap of a small heroine with horns curling back from her mask. She saw the heroine gently shake Aurochs shoulders, but the hero only stared blankly ahead, tears dripping silently off his chin. 

More. She needed more. She needed to know there was more beyond this unending agony. 

She closed her eyes. She felt the concussive wave as it emanated from the single beat of her blackened heart. She felt it wash over the heroes surrounding her, felt them stagger. She felt their light dim as her energy settled over them like a shroud.

She drew the light to her, moaning as it winked out once it was too far from its host. Something hit the back of her legs. Her knees hit the stone, but she didn’t stop pulling.

“Marinette…please…” she heard someone beg. She didn’t know the voice. She didn’t know the name. She didn’t stop.

She pulled, and pulled, and pulled, and all around her, Paris’s heroes began to wilt, the weight of her grief too much for any of them to bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Hypothetically. Would you like additional chapters of Post-Reveal, Pre-Relationship, sorting out this mess?
> 
> Or would you like a sequel to this fic with Post-Reveal, pre-relationship, sorting out this mess while trying to take down the baddie?


	24. Invisible String

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette finally takes a trip down memory lane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, friends! The week got away from me. Please accept this monster chapter as compensation for your patience <3

Chat Noir watched silently as the battle began in the plaza below.

His heart ached to be down there with them, but his head knew he had to stay where he was and maintain the course. He froze when Marinette attacked Felix, but his cousin stayed the course, saving his one-time ability like they’d planned. 

“Nervous?” Red landed silently to his left, her gaze trained on the plaza as well.

“Angry,” Chat Noir answered, the words clipped. “Where is he?”

Red snorted. “He’s letting Marinette do as much damage as possible before he risks it. I have to say, I didn’t know it was possible for her to get akumatized. She always seemed so…level-headed. It used to drive me crazy, like she was somehow better than the rest of us, and it was worse because she didn’t even seem to notice. I thought one day it might happen and I’d feel smug about it, but all I feel is…sad.”

“Who’s the last person you’d ever expect to get akumatized, Chlo?” he asked, dropping into a crouch as a sent-monster burst into the plaza. He tensed, but the team responded quickly. “The last person who could afford it? The only person who could fix whatever an akuma did?”

A crease appeared between her brows. “Who could fix… Well, I guess…Ladybu - ” Understanding dawned on her face. “ _Marinette Dupain-Cheng_?”

“I’m sure she had help,” Chat Noir said. He watched with amusement as a riot of emotions shot across Red’s face. Had he been so expressive? No, he’d been too stunned. “How many times has Tikki coached you to calm down or take it easy?”

Red scowled. “More times than I care to remember. No wonder she wouldn’t eat anything that wasn’t from her bakery.”

Chat Noir snorted. Loyalty went a long way with a kwami. He was about to say something else when she latched onto his arm, squeezing.

“He’s here.”

Chat Noir followed her gaze into the plaza. Hawkmoth had finally appeared.

“Let’s go.”

Adrenaline surged through his veins as the two of them scaled the Eiffel Tower down to the plaza. By the time they reached the ground, Tigress had stepped up to fight him, bagh nakh’s in her fists. Chat Noir and Ladybug split and surged towards Hawkmoth from opposite sides of the plaza.

 _Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look._ Chat Noir chanted the words to himself as he leap-frogged over the senti-monster, giving it a whack with his baton as he passed by. He’d worried about letting Marinette distract him; it had never mattered more than it did now. And if he let himself look, he knew he’d change course. Now in the thick of it, he could hear Kele trying to reason with Marinette. He felt a twinge of guilt; it was a rookie’s mistake, and part of him wondered, not for the first time, if giving Miraculouses out to first-time users was an advantage or a needless risk when he knew he wouldn’t be able to provide the necessary training. At the time he’d reasoned that any one with a Miraculous and good intentions would be an advantage.

Of course, that was before the akuma he’d known Hawkmoth would bring with him would be his Lady and their former fearless leader.

It could have been anyone in all of Paris. Why did it have to be her?

But then he was clear of the senti-monster, and he found himself face to face with his nemesis just as Hawkmoth landed a blow that sent Tigress staggering back. They shared a brief look; she nodded once and leapt into the battle with the senti-monster.

“Ahhhh,” Hawkmoth sighed, smirking, “Of course you’re still alive.”

“Nine lives,” Chat Noir hissed, squaring up. “Remember?”

“Surely you must be down to the last three by now,” Hawkmoth said. “Although Lady-brat’s luck finally ran out, didn’t it?”

“Now that’s wishful thinking!” 

Hawkmoth staggered as Red’s yoyo struck him in the back of the knee, but he regained his composure in seconds. Worse, he didn’t look as surprised as Chat Noir had hoped he would, almost as though Chloe hadn’t been who he’d been talking about. But of course he wasn’t.

Instead of fear, Chat Noir leaned into the one emotion he’d been afraid of for over a year and a half, the one thing he’d never dared to fully realize: hope.

He let it straighten his spine, let it light up his face, let it make his eyes glow. He leaned into it, let it obliterate the pain and misery and rage of the past few weeks, and was rewarded when he saw a flicker of doubt in Hawkmoth’s eyes. “Did it?”

Hawkmoth snarled and lunged with his cane. Chat Noir blocked it as Red’s yoyo swung around the villain’s ankle, but Hawkmoth managed to avoid them both, sending them on a collision course into each other. Red barely managed to dodge him. Their shoulders jostled roughly but Chat Noir didn’t even feel it. 

This time he went low, baton first. He swung for Hawkmoth’s feet. The shaft whistled through the air, the momentum nearly toppling him as Hawkmoth managed to avoid the attack. Red lunged next. Pride burst in his chest as she landed a blow. Maybe she didn’t have Ladybug’s experience, but she made up for it in determination - or maybe that was plain spite. Either way, they were holding their own. It was a small victory. A good start to the only acceptable outcome of the night.

And then it was his turn to back-peddle as Hawkmoth’s elbow nearly caught his eye-socket. Chat Noir dropped to his knees and was rewarded by a kick to the chest that sent him flying and left him winded. The fall was hard, but the Miraculous absorbed the damage. He grit his teeth as he slid across the stone plaza, looking up just in time to see Hawkmoth seize Red by the throat and reach for an earring - his Lady’s earring.

In that moment, the plan turned to dust in the wind. “CATACLYSM.”

But even as he surged towards them, he could tell he wasn’t going to make it. A burst of pink sparkles exploded across Red’s body as one stud was removed. Desperate, Chat Noir flung his baton across the distance. Hawkmoth ducked at the last moment, throwing a glare over his shoulder that quickly evaporated when he, too, noticed the considerable distance between them. 

Chat Noir reeled as a concussive wave swept over him. The force of it threw him to his knees, but instead of dissipating, it seemed to suffuse his body and wrap a fist around his heart. He could swear he felt it stutter in response. Frustration seeped into his bones, and on its heels, despair. What had ever made him think he could win? What had ever made him think he could do any of this without Marinette? He hadn’t even been smart enough to see her when she’d been right there with him the entire time. He couldn’t save her. He’d never been able to, and he never would. Hawkmoth was going to win. 

But not without paying for it.

Chat Noir climbed to his feet, shaking from the effort. Hawkmoth was only a few feet away now, staring at Marinette vacantly as a single tear slipped down the side of his mask. Chat Noir risked a glance of his own and staggered to stop.

His team had surrounded her, but all of them had sagged under her destructive power. Even the senti-monster had ground to a halt and was whining quietly. She knelt in the middle of the ring of heroes, eyes closed, arms wide, back arched, her hair a dark banner behind her. 

_Go to her._

The words tore through him, and he took one unsteady step towards her. His Lady. After all this time. So close, in so much pain. He could help her. He could save her. He could shoulder the burden for her. He could be her light. She’d always been his.

_Go to her._

The weeks of wondering. Of searching. Of feeling angry, of feeling betrayed, desperate, afraid, guilty. All over. He’d found her. He’d accomplished the impossible. He didn’t want to look away, as though she’d slip away like the remnants of a nightmare if he risked it. He could free her. 

_Go to her._

He’d never wanted anything more.

“Ironic.”

Chat Noir jerked to a halt, twisting to face Hawkmoth. He wasn’t sure where Red had disappeared to, but neither she nor her earring were in sight.

The villain smirked. “Without you and your little plan, I never would have been able to twist that girl. My akumas never seemed to be able to find purchase within her heart, until you opened the door for them, little hero. I guess I should thank you.”

Him? Had their fight really been so bad? Had he really hurt her so - 

No. No, no, no. Felix’s plan. His alleged demise. He’d been so focused on this fight, on strategizing and recruiting. He hadn’t realized it could hurt her this badly. He suddenly understood what he was feeling, this draining misery. It was her misery, too much for any one person to bear. She was drowning in it, clinging to any lifeboat she could find, only to discover none of them could withstand the storm.

“All this time,” Chat Noir snarled as he stalked towards Hawkmoth, “All these months, all these defeats, all these poor people, and you _still_ don’t get it. Without you, none of this would have happened. And now I think it’s time to make good on the promise my Lady made you on day one.”

Chat Noir channeled all the rage and pain from Marinette’s spell into his attack. Hawkmoth managed to block his attack and tried to land a kick. He dodged it and swung up through Hawkmoth’s guard, his claws headed straight for the man’s chest - and stopping at the last second, hesitating as the memory of being hit with his own power washed over him. It hadn’t killed him, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t.

It was all the time Hawkmoth needed. he landed a blow that made Chat Noir’s head spin. He landed on his side, his vision blurry. He heard Hawkmoth coming towards him, his steps echoing in the plaza, interspersed with the agonized moans of his team. He felt Marinette’s pull, felt her tugging the strength from him. He was powerless to stop it. Worse, he didn’t want to. A small voice was screaming at him to get back up, but it was growing quieter and quieter with every passing second.

He felt more than he saw Hawkmoth come to a stop beside him. “Paris’s heroes.” He laughed. “Pathetic. If only your Lady could see you now. She should have just given you up when she had the chance.”

“You know what your problem is? You talk to much.”

Chat Noir flinched as his cousin lunged out of a shadow, stinger in his fist. It was a good attack. Sharp. Clean. Efficient. Impressive. It would have worked if Hawkmoth had been standing just a little bit closer.

But he wasn’t, and his Miraculous-born reflexes enabled the villain to stagger just far enough away that the stinger only grazed his shoulder. It was enough. Chat Noir shoved himself to his feet one last time. This time he didn’t stop. 

His palm made contact with Hawkmoth’s chest. The villains eyes went wide as the Cataclysm exploded through his chest. He grunted, teeth grit, jaw locked as he absorbed the damage, his gaze locked with Chat Noir’s. Hate burned there. Maybe it had started out as a simple quest for the Miraculous, but he could see it had become personal for the villain a long, long time ago. 

Hawkmoth stumbled back, clutching the still-flickering wound over his chest. He swung his cane in a wide arc, just enough to keep Chat Noir and Vespa at bay. “Save your precious friend if you can, you mangy fleabag. She’s beyond even my reach now.”

Before Chat Noir could rip the Miraculous from Hawkmoth’s throat, the senti-monster lurched between them and he stumbled back. It let out a pained roar and reared as Hawkmoth leapt on its back and let it carry him off. Chat Noir snatched up his baton, but Vespa’s hand on his shoulder kept him from hunting the man down - barely.

“You’ll get another chance,” Vespa said shortly. “Red needs your help now.”

“Red?”

The sounds of fighting finally broke through the fog in his head, and he turned to see Marinette was no longer in the centre of the ring of prone heroes, but battling it out with Red. Marinette reached for his partner again and again, but Red managed to dodge, slipping out of her grasp each time, but he could see she was slowing down. Her yoyo was no where to be found.

“Marinette.” The name slipped off his lips, unbidden. He was afraid, he realized. Afraid to face her like this. Afraid to look into the black pools of her eyes and discover she was gone, finally, truly beyond his reach. “Marinette!”

Marinette staggered to a stop, turning to face him. As she did, Red dropped to her knees, exhausted. “Chat…Noir…”

He made himself take a step. And then another. And then another. She knew him. Even now, she knew him. Maybe…she wasn’t all gone. Not yet.

He was barely aware of his cousin keeping pace with him as he crossed the plaza to where she waited. He wasn’t sure if she was surprised to see him or failed to really recognize him beyond his name. He found he didn’t care. He could fix this.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he drew closer. “I…I’m sorry for all of it. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’m sorry we fought. I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. You were never a distraction; you were my destiny, Marinette, and I was too blind to see it. But I’m here now. I won’t lose you again. Not to Hawkmoth. Not to this sorrow. Not to anything.”

“Chat…Noir…” She took one staggering step towards him, her head tilting as though trying to puzzle through his apology.

“Got a plan here?” Vespa muttered, his eyes darting between the two of them.

“Get the akuma,” Chat Noir instructed. He glanced at his ring; the pad on it flashed slowly. He had seconds left. “I’ll distract her.”

“Distract her?” Vespa repeated. “Adrien - ”

A bright green flash erupted as Adrien’s transformation dissolved. Before Plagg could scold him, he slipped the ring from his finger and pressed it into his cousin’s palm. “For safe keeping. Just in case.”

“Dammit, Adrien , you - ”

“Chat…Noir… Adrien…?” Marinette interrupted, blinking. “Adrien…”

“It’s me, Marinette,” he said. He continued toward her, reaching out, one palm upturned. 

“He calls me…Zouyu…” she breathed, her eyes drifting down to his hand. “Marinette…is gone.”

“No,” Adrien said firmly. “She’s not. Let me help you. Take my hand.”

“Still alive…” A crease appeared between her brows as her expression twisted. “Then why does it…still hurt…? I can’t…make it stop… I can’t…. I can’t…

He took another step. “Take my hand, Marinette.”

“Yes…” she murmured, stretching out her own hand. “Yes. There is…so much light in you…so much.”

“Take it,” he offered. “You don’t have to bear this alone. You’ve never had to. I’ve always been here. I always will be. You and me against the world.”

Her gaze snapped to his as her hand finally slid into his upturned palm. Adrien gasped at the direct contact, his knees buckling under the force of it. She came with him, maintaining the contact. She was pulling from him. He’d felt it before, but this…it was a riptide and he was a piece of driftwood against the jagged rocks of her grief. He’d known that Hawkmoth’s powers amplified the victim’s emotions, giving him control, but this… 

_She’s beyond even my reach now._ Hawkmoth had known he’d do this. He’d tossed him the warning, knowing he’d miss it altogether, that he’d never realize that Marinette was stronger than anything he’d ever faced before, that she would eat him alive without meaning to, and that he would let her.

His vision blurred as her face drew closer to his. He could feel her breath on his face, ice cold. She smelled wrong, like lilies. Her free hand cupped the side of his face as she leaned in. Her lips were only a breath away, but he couldn’t help but lean in, even knowing his own destruction was seconds away. He wouldn’t survive it. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t leave her like this. If he couldn’t save her, then…then…

The acute agony of Marinette’s infectious despair evaporated as quickly as it had come. Adrien felt her jerk and heard her gasp, his own vision clearing as Red snagged the akuma from Marinette’s broken hair ornament. She shuddered as Hawkmoth’s magic dissolved, bleeding from her gown into the plaza stones. 

“Adrien…” Marinette murmured, drinking in his face. “Chat Noir…? You’re alive. I’m so relieved. Thank…goodness…” 

Adrien wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she collapsed, pulling her close. Vanilla and cinnamon. Relief flooded his entire being. A small laugh escaped, followed by another that caught in his chest. He tucked her head gently under his chin, threading his fingers through her loose hair. “It’s all ok now,” he murmured, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. “I found you, my Lady. I know I took…I took too long. But I’m here now. I’m here. It’s ok.”

“Adrien.”

He looked up at Red and found the entire team staring at them, some with wide eyes, other with blank stares, and one particular fox with a knowing smile. He glanced back to Red, and it was only then he noticed what she was wearing.

“…thanks, Chlo,” Adrien said slowly, tightening his grip on Marinette as whispers raced through the assembled heroes. “But I can take my ring back now.”

It was her smile that terrified him. It wasn’t malicious, but instead sad. 

“I have one last thing to do,” she said. “One last task to set things right. I’m not exactly sure what the price will be, but I know I’m willing to pay it.”

Chills raced down Adrien’s spine. “What are you talking about?”

“Thank you for giving me another chance,” Chloe said, “Even when I didn’t deserve it. You’ll always be my best friend. Tikki, Plagg, unify!”

Adrien had to shield his eyes from the bright white light that erupted from Chloe. He heard her wish in his head as much as he heard her say it out loud, felt it zip along his skin like a thousand little miracles: _‘I ask that Marinette’s memories of the Miraculous and her life as Ladybug, the protector of Paris, to be restored to her. This is my wish. I choose it of my own free will, and willingly pay the price.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO??? DID YOU GUESS AT HOW MARINETTE GETS HER MEMORY BACK???
> 
> Also - there is a ~lot~ to unpack, so I think I am going to do a sequel, but I'm going to also try to provide enough closure that this story is sufficient should you choose to end your reading here <3 ~ ('here' meaning the next two chapters)


	25. Beside You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip down memory lane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May I suggest 'Beside You' by Marianna's Trench for your listening pleasure

Marinette Dupain-Cheng blinked slowly as she woke to the chirping of birds on her balcony. She yawned, stretching as she rolled onto her side. She let her eyes drift closed again as she chased the remnants of a dream, but the more she pursued them, the harder they seemed to recall. 

Mentally shrugging, Marinette let it fade.

Instead she reached for her phone, but froze when she saw the shadowed form sleeping on the chaise in her room below. Squeezing her phone like a weapon, she snapped on the bed-side light by her headboard and prepared to fight or escape through the sky light.

“…Adrien?”

She’d only whispered, but those beautiful green eyes were suddenly looking up at her as though he’d never really been asleep at all.

“You’re awake,” he said softly. His gaze never wavered from hers, and for a moment, it didn’t feel strange that he was there at all. “Do you…How do you feel?”

Marinette frowned. “How do I…”

And then the ground was rushing up towards her as she fell through the yawning chasm. Her heart pounded as memories crashed through her, the gaps filling in rapidly, ripped from her fingers before she could fully grasp them. She panted as she remembered Tikki, pressed her back up against the wall as she recalled the months of hiding her identity, stared unseeingly at the wall as she remembered how she’d discovered Chat Noir’s - Adrien’s - identity, and the desperate, foolish plan she’d devised to protect them both.

The memories came faster and faster. She couldn’t breathe with the weight of them bearing down on her. They tripped over themselves in an effort to be known.

And then warmth enveloped her. A steady beat sounded in her ear and reverberated through her, giving her a single point to focus on.

“I’ve got you,” she heard him say over the chattering of her teeth. “It’s ok. Breathe out, Marinette. Let it go.”

But she couldn’t. Because if she did, that weight would obliterate her entirely. It was too much.

“Let it go,” Adrien commanded again. He rubbed small circles on her back as though he could encourage her to exhale that way. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?”

_Do you trust me?_

The simple question burned through her. She did. More than any one or any thing. 

Marinette released the breath she’d been holding. She shuddered violently as her memories cascaded through her and blinding pain lanced through her temples, but when it was all over, Adrien’s warmth remained, grounding her. 

Slowly, she became aware of her position sideways between his legs, curled into his chest, his heartbeat in her ear. As she calmed, her breaths fell into sync with his, each one easier than the last. It was easier than she’d imagined it would be, but loving him always had been.

“Thank you,” Marinette sighed. She flinched as the dregs of the restorative magic coursed through her, but it wasn’t enough to keep the guilt at bay. 

“For what?” Adrien murmured into her hair. She leaned back to look up into those green eyes, his arms loosening around her as she moved, but glanced away just as quickly.

“Where do I start? There’s so much.” She reached out tentatively for the lost memories. It didn’t hurt when she examined them, but so many of them felt as though they’d happened to someone else. She puzzled at how they fit in with the memories that she’d kept, tried to make sense of the two lives she seemed to have. “For bothering to find me,” she whispered, ashamed to even say it out loud, “After the way I left.”

She should move, Marinette realized. She didn’t deserve this comfort. She didn’t deserve anything from him, except perhaps to hear how she had hurt him. Her reckless plan, the only option she could see at the time, now felt cowardly and selfish with the distance a few weeks behind her. There were a million ways it could have gone wrong. She hadn’t even planned to make it this far.

But Adrien’s arms locked around her again as she shifted, pulling her back against his chest. She allowed herself to be cowardly and selfish one more time and let him hold her. She’d oftened dreamed of what it might feel like to held, cherished, loved by Adrien Agreste. And if only one of those things were true just then…well, it was still more than she’d ever thought she’d get.

“I should be mad,” she heard him say softly, his breath warm on her ear, “But all I feel is relieved. There were so many nights where I really thought I’d never be able to find you, that I wasn’t smart enough or clever enough to follow the breadcrumbs. Or…that I’d let myself get distracted and just let you go.”

“But you didn’t,” she whispered. She felt him shudder.

“I was so close, Marinette,” he admitted. “So close to just…forgetting you.”

A chill raced down her spine. “The only one to blame for that would be me,” she said. “And so much more. Adrien, I - ”

“You made the best choice you could,” he interrupted, “With the information you had at the time. It wouldn’t have been nearly so much of a problem if you’d actually given me the box.”

Marinette frowned. “I _did_ give you the box.”

“Close,” Adrien said, “But not exactly. It’s ok, I got it in the end - along with your note.”

“My no- oh.” Marinette waited for a blush to warm her cheeks, but all she felt was cold. She doubted the contents of that note mattered very much at all now. How could it?

“You should have told me,” he chided gently. For a moment, her pulse began to race, but then he continued speaking. “I never would have pressured you about our identities. You know I’ve wanted you to know for a long time now. I’ve been prepared to wait for you to want that, too - and I’ve been prepared in case that day never came.”

“I know,” Marinette said, shivering as his fingers traced a pattern on the skin of her arm, softening the rebuke. “I just…I was having trouble reconciling it. That the whole time it was you. At first I thought I was wrong, that I’d just made a mistake, so I had to make sure, because admitting I knew Adrien would put my identity at risk, too. And then when I was sure…”

They’d both read the note. They both knew what it said. So why was it so hard to talk about?

“You thought I’d give it up,” he finished for her. She nodded silently against his chest.

“I couldn’t save the world without you,” she admitted.

“Then why do you think I could without you?” he asked softly. 

The room swam for a moment as her perspective rearranged, and then Marinette was pressing a trembling hand over her mouth as the reality of it sank in. There was no denying it. She’d done to him the very thing he’d been afraid he’d do to her - except she hadn’t given him the opportunity to stop it.

This time, she did wrench herself away. Adrien watched her go as she pressed herself up against the headboard and pulled a pillow to her chest, squeezing it as though it was the only thing anchoring her to the room. 

“How?” she whispered, those beautiful blue eyes he’d missed so much welling with tears. “How could you save me after what I did - ”

“Because I would have done the same thing,” Adrien said. 

He’d known it for some time now, maybe ever since he’d read her note. He’d been so angry and desperate and terrified, and for a while those things had obliterated everything else, but in the quiet between waking and sleeping, every night he absolved her of her choice, knowing he would have made the same one.

Know he had already made the choice, time and time again.

Timebreaker. Dark Cupid. Gamer. How many times had he put himself between Ladybug and whatever villain Hawkmoth had dreamed up that day? If he was being honest, too many to count. 

Because she was the only one who could fix things. Because he couldn’t bear to see her fall. Because he loved her.

Marinette regarded him with shining eyes. “Adrien, you can’t…” 

“I would have,” he said firmly. He reached out to her and laid his hand on the bed, palm up. She hesitated for a moment before slipping her hand into his. He wrapped his fingers around it, rubbing small circles on her skin with his thumb to convince himself that this was real as much as it was to comfort her. “If I thought it was the only way to protect you, your identity, I’d have done it, and trusted you with the same task you gave me.”

“It was no small task,” Marinette said, but he felt the tension ebb from her hand. 

“Why are you trying so hard to tell me I should be angry?” Adrien asked. Sure, he thought that he would be, and had been plenty of times since reading her note, but more than anything he was just relieved.

“Because it’s what I deserve,” she whispered past the lump in her throat. 

“I think you’ve had more than your fair share of punishment,” Adrien said lightly, but he knew nightmares of his akumatized partner would haunt him for months, if not years to come. “Besides, from what I’ve been able to learn since my daring rescue, this wasn’t just your plan.”

As though she’d been waiting for her cue, Tikki appeared in a shower of pink sparkles right through the bed. Marinette’s sudden intake of breath was the only sound in the room as her free hand flew to her ears, fingering the studs Alya had helped return to their rightful owner earlier.

“Marinette?” Tikki said, darting about nervously. “Are you - ”

“Oh, Tikki,” Marinette breathed, slowly holding out her palm for the kwami to rest. “I missed you so much.”

She’d never known she could miss someone she hadn’t remembered, but she felt the ache of her friend’s absence as she examined old memories with fresh eyes; a comment that was met with empty silence, a loneliness that crept in when she was alone, doubt that she just couldn’t seem to shake.

“Marinette!” The kwami swirled off her owner’s palm and pressed herself to her cheek, the two of them giggling.

“Are you sure?” Marinette asked, quickly swiping at a tear as it finally spilled over. “Are you sure you want me to - ”

“Yes,” Tikki and Adrien said at the same time. Marinette finally smiled, some of that old light returning to her eyes. 

“Ladybug is a part of who you are, Marinette,” Tikki said, drifting down to her owners’ knee. “You started this fight. You should finish it - if that’s still something you want.”

Marinette nodded, words momentarily beyond her reach. “It is, Tikki. You have no idea. Although, that does remind me,” she said, looking back to Adrien. “How did you do it?”

He fought a grimace, instantly sure of exactly what she was asking. “I didn’t, actually. Chloe did.”

“Chloe?” Marinette frowned as she sifted through her memories, rearranging them into order. “What…”

“When we were trying to deakumatize you, I handed Felix my Miraculous for safe keeping,” Adrien explained. “My transformation had already run out, but I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to…I handed it to Felix. And I guess he gave it to Chloe. I’m not sure what she told him to get him to hand it over, but he did. After we managed to deakumatize you, Chloe merged the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous. She used them to make the wish - to restore your memories.”

Marinette’s fingers had gone ice cold. “To restore my…but why? Why would she do that?”

“Because it was the only way to do it,” Adrien said evenly. “Because someone had to. And, if I had to guess, because you gave her a second chance when no one else would.”

“You’re saying you think she owed me?”

“I’m saying I think she wanted to,” Adrien said. “As a thank you.”

Marinette suppressed a shudder as her memories rearranged themselves again. “And the price?”

“An almost even exchange,” Adrien said. “Your memories for hers.”

For a moment, everything became absolutely still. She vividly remembered the confusion that came with that memory loss, the feeling of being off-balance, of missing a part of yourself. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined someone else paying the price for her choice. 

And then her heart beat in her ears and time continued once more.

“So she doesn’t remember any of it?”

“Some of it,” Adrien clarified. “She remembers her time as Queen Bee, but everything after that appears to be gone. She doesn’t remember being Ladybug or anything from the past couple of months that has to do with the Miraculous. But, if it works the same way yours did, I doubt those memories are truly gone. More likely they’re just…hidden.”

“Yes,” Marinette said slowly. “I had these…dreams. At least I thought they were dreams, but…they were real. My memories, just beyond where I could see them.”

“Who knows,” Adrien said. “Chloe may get those memories back one day. But for now…”

“She will,” Marinette swore. “I’ll do everything I can to make it happen.”

“ _We_ will,” Adrien said, giving her hand a squeeze. “We’re a team.”

She smiled, but it faded as she took in that familiar face. “I know you said you didn’t blame me,” she said slowly, “But I still want…I need to apologize, Adrien. I feel horrible, and what I did to you…it must have been a really hard couple of months. I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you,” he said easily, as though he’d thought it a hundred times before he’d even found her. “I don’t hold it against you, Marinette. It wasn’t easy, but I always knew I’d find you again.”

“You did?”

“No,” he admitted, breaking her gaze. “No, I didn’t. There were a lot of nights where I would just search and search and search. I always thought I’d know you when I saw you, but I never thought I’d already recognized you.”

Marinette’s eyes went wide. “You…knew?”

Adrien shrugged. “Not in a way I’d let myself think about, but…I’ve compared you to Ladybug before.”

He had, she realized. _’Every day Ladybug_. The words had sent a chill down her spine at the time, lending her a rare moment of clarity when she was face to face with him. She’d only let her guard down again when he hadn’t given any other indication that he knew her. 

“I guess the experience wasn’t universal,” he continued. A flush spread across his cheeks. “Were you…disappointed when you found out it was me?”

Marinette’s brows shot up. “Disappointed? In you?” she blurted. “Adrien, you’re one of the most amazing people I know. You’re kind and funny and loyal and…and how could I ever be disappointed?”

It was Adrien’s turn to be surprised. “You really think all that?”

Marinette nodded emphatically. “You’re the best Chat Noir there could ever be,” she said. “Like I said - I can’t save the world without you.”

Her breath caught as he smiled, laughing at her earnestness. It warmed her like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm, like a fire on the coldest night of the year. Against all odds, he had found her. He’d forgiven her.

Everything was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unless


	26. Epilogue: No Place Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A resolution, of sorts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last time I ever threaten y'all with angst. For now.

Ladybug could feel the ribbons in her hair fluttering as she gazed out over the city, alone for once. The buildings glittered in the setting sun. Its rays were warm on her face, and for a moment, she just closed her eyes and breathed it in.

The first time she’d transformed, she’d been afraid the Miraculous would somehow reject her as its holder, her betrayal still lingering in its magic.

Except the opposite seemed to have happened.

Rather than punish her, the Miraculous had welcomed her back with joy she could feel in her bones - and an upgraded suit. Unlike before, when it had been simple and spotted, it now sported solid black legs to her mid thigh and a solid and matching torso. Her hair, too, was now pulled back into a pony tail, longer than her civilian self - all reminders, she thought, of the girl who’d enabled her to wear the suit again at all. 

“You look happy,” she heard her partner say seconds before he dropped onto the roof beside her. “Thinking of me?”

“It’s good to be back,” Ladybug said simply, cracking an eye to glance side-long at her partner with a grin. 

“Good to have you back,” Chat Noir said, leaning on his baton like it was a fancy walking stick. His eyes softened. “Are you ready for this?”

Ladybug sighed, the moment over. “Yes. No? It feels so strange. I kept my identity a secret for so long. The crazy things I did… To have it all out in the open, sort of, is…”

“Oh, I bet,” he said, raising a brow in amusement. “I still want to hear about those crazy things, you know. I have a feeling the calls were closer than I ever imagined.”

“We’ve got time,” Ladybug said lightly, but inside, her heart had begun to pound, a newfound experience she didn’t entirely enjoy. She was used to her crush on Adrien. She had even gotten used to her feelings for Chat Noir. But together, as one person? Her partner was lethal. The idea of spending any amount of extended time alone sent her into acute cardiac arrest.

“Yo!”

Ladybug had never been so happy to be interrupted in her life. 

The two of them turned as Rena Rouge and Carapace dropped onto roof with them. They stopped a few feet away, Rena squinting at Ladybug’s face as though only seeing her for the first time.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?” she said softly.

Ladybug took a deep breath, subtly straightening her spine. Why was this so much scarier than any akuma attack ever had been? 

“It’s really me,” Ladybug admitted. It was the closest she could get. She’d get reakumatized before she said her own name from behind the mask.

For a moment, her friend said nothing. Ladybug could just imagine what she was thinking. All the secrets, all the lies, all the manipulation. Was she any better than Lila? Was she a hypocrite? Didn’t she trust her at all?

But then Ladybug was reeling as Rena Rouge enveloped her in a bone-crushing hug, at once familiar and strange with the competing Miraculous. “You are so amazing,” Rena whispered. “So incredibly, awesomely amazing. I’m so sorry you had to do this alone for so long.”

“Not entirely alone,” Ladybug murmured back, glimpsing Chat Noir over her friend’s shoulder as he chatted with Carapace. Giving them their space. He always knew exactly what she needed. How did he do that? How had she never noticed before?

“Talk about coincidence,” Rena said, finally releasing her. “We have some catching up to do.”

“How about a sleepover tonight?” Ladybug suggested.

“Done, girl,” Rena said. “I can’t wait to hear it all.”

And for once, Ladybug was looking forward to telling it all. Hiding her other life had caused a strain on their relationship she’d been unable to fully understand. It wasn’t just the lying, but the secrets, the things she had no way of knowing, the thing about herself she’d hidden away. Anxiety made her palms tingle; what if her friend liked who she thought she was more than who she actually was?

“Late as usual,” Chat Noir muttered loud enough to interrupt Ladybug’s runaway train of thought. She took the opportunity to scan the horizon once more.

“Maybe that errand is taking a little longer than we expected,” Ladybug said.

Chat Noir snorted, a sound so unexpected now that she knew who was behind the mask Ladybug had to bite her lip and turn her face to keep laughter from spilling out. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Quit whining,” another voice cut in. “We’re here.”

The four of them spun to the southern edge of the roof where Felix, borrowing the horse Miraculous, and Chloe, sporting the bee Miraculous once again, had appeared. Both were scowling, though the latter was staring pointedly at the roof, her arms crossed as though she’d rather be anywhere else.

Ladybug held her breath as she took in her one-time rival. She looked…the same. No scar marked her as having sacrificed anything for anyone, the loss invisible to the naked eye. She knew it didn’t hurt, not physically, but that confusion, that feeling of uncertainty haunted you. It was something she would never be able to repay. Chat Noir had told her he’d tried to tell Chloe about her missing memories, but they’d disappeared again over night. She knew the truth of that experience as well. The magic of the Miracle box simply would not allow one to have what it had taken away.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Rena quipped, but it lacked the usual bite. She, too, was regarding Chloe with a softness Ladybug had never seen directed at her before. 

“Well, he practically begged,” Chloe sniffed, her gaze darting up to them at last. “Plus he brought this with him, so how could I say no?” She fingered the Miraculous in her hair like she couldn’t quite believe she had it back. 

“Thanks for coming then,” Ladybug said, letting the attitude slide. It was the same old Chloe, but different, like she could see through the bravado now to the scared, lonely little girl underneath who was desperate to make friends but wasn’t sure how.

“Want to tell me what this is all about?” Felix asked. “I have places to be, you know.”

“So sorry to inconvenience you,” Chat Noir said with a sweeping bow. “We’d be delighted to get started to accommodate your busy schedule.”

“As of last week, every thing’s changed,” Ladybug said, interrupting what she was sure would turn into a Miraculous-powered smack down. As she spoke, her teammates visibly relaxed. “Some of us had our identities revealed previously to the confrontation with Hawkmoth. Some of us did not.” She didn’t miss Chloe’s wince, but the words held no malice. “Therein lies additional risk, but risk has always gone hand in hand with being one of Paris’s protectors. The previous guardian had rules about identities. They only hurt this team. Chat Noir and I are the guardians now; we have different rules. We know who you are, and you know us. I won’t force any one to hold, or to keep a Miraculous, but if you want it…it’s yours. Some of you have gone public with your identities. Some of you may have your identities discovered during the course of the next few months. This is no longer grounds for losing your Miraculous. Accidents happen. Mistakes happen… Fate happens. A Miraculous may be returned at any time, no questions asked. We understand the toll it takes to wear one. But what Chat Noir and I are asking now is for your aid in the fight against Hawkmoth and his henchmen.”

“He’s getting stronger,” Chat Noir chimed in. “We don’t know how, but the akumas he’s creating… well, you’ve seen them. He’s angry, and for him, it’s personal. He’ll _make_ it personal. Your family, your friends, it’s all at risk. But…”

“The choice is yours,” Ladybug said, splaying her hands. “Chat Noir and I will be making the rounds tonight to offer everyone the same thing, but you four are the ones who got us this far. I wouldn’t be standing here without you, and…” She glanced at her parter to find he was already looking at her, an encouraging smile on his face. “We can’t save the world without you.”

For a moment, they all glanced solemnly at each other, the weight of the city finally shared between them. Then Felix snorted.

“And I thought I was prone to dramatics,” he said, but genuine warmth sparkled in his eyes. “Though I doubt you’d be able to manage without me. I’m in.”

“Ditto,” Carapace said with a grin, exchanging a fist bump with Chat Noir.

“You know it!” Rena squealed, enveloping Ladybug in another hug. “This is like, a dream come true!”

“You’re sure?” Ladybug whispered, hugging her friend back.

“Never been more sure of anything in my life,” Rena insisted. “I won’t let you down.”

“You never could.”

But Ladybug stiffened as she suddenly beheld Chloe over her friend’s shoulder. She wasn’t looking at them, instead choosing to stare at the roof, scuffing it with her shoe. War raged on her face.

“Be right back,” Ladybug said. Rena followed her gaze but didn’t say anything, merely offering a half-hearted smile, a silent wish for good luck before she turned to the boys.

“I thought you’d be happier,” Ladybug said softly as she came to a stop a few feet away from her one-time nemesis. 

“What’s there to be happy _about?_ ” Chloe demanded. Those deep blue eyes flashed up to meet hers, but dropped again almost instantly. “This city doesn’t want me as its protector. It never has, especially when it already had you, and despite the pretty speech, you can’t want me here, either.” She fingered the hair clip again as though she might just pull it off then and there, but she hesitated. “I don’t…I don’t deserve this.”

A thousand responses roared up in Ladybug, backed by guilt, but she reached for the only thing that mattered. “Do _you_ want to be here?”

Tears welled up in Chloe’s eyes, but she blinked them away before they could fall. “ _Yes_.” Her voice throbbed on the word and she quickly bit her lip before more words spilled out. It didn’t matter. Ladybug could read everything in it; the pain, the confusion, the shame, the desperation - the tentative happiness, the fierceness. The hope. 

“I meant what I said,” Ladybug murmured, daring to reach out and put a hand on the other girls’ shoulder. “We can’t save the world without you. More importantly, I don’t want to. You’re right - we do have history. But neither of us are the same girls we were back then. So much has changed. I’ve changed. And…I like to think you’ve changed a little, too.”

Chloe finally smiled, a half-hearted grin that faded almost as quickly as it had come. “That’s true,” she said. “The girl I thought you were would never have had it in her to be Ladybug.”

“Between you and me, I didn’t think I had it in me, either,” Ladybug admitted with a half-smile of her own. “I almost gave it up, right at the beginning there. Tikki convinced me to try again.”

“Tikki…” Chloe frowned at the name, confusion flickering in her eyes. Her hand went to her hair comb for a third time, but then slipped to her bare ears. Hope burst though Ladybug. She’d been right; Chloe’s memories _were_ still there. But the look in Chloe’s eyes faded, blurring as the magic took hold, supplying a plausible answer to the question she’d only begun to form. “Huh. Some would say it’s impossible to improve on perfection, but I suppose if anyone could do it, it would be a Bourgeois.”

And despite the grim truth of the Miraculous magic she could see at work, Ladybug laughed. The comment was so like something Chat Noir would say she couldn’t do anything else. The two of them were going to be a handful. 

“So are you in, then?” Ladybug extended a hand, palm up towards the girl that had given her her life back.

Chloe finally looked up, meeting Ladybug’s gaze and holding it for the first time since she’d arrived. She placed her hand in Ladybug’s, hope blazing in her face.  
“Yes,” she said, taking a step forward to where everyone else was waiting - towards the future. “I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sike, it was comfort!
> 
> Well. Here we are. What do I say? Where do I even begin?
> 
> Thank you to everyone who took a chance on this story, who bookmarked this story, who commented on this story, who loved this story, who shared this story with me. Special thanks and shout outs to NateJay for taking a chance on this piece when it was only half-done and didn't have any real end in sight when you were specifically only reading completed story's; to prncssem for being here from when I posted this as just an idea on Tumblr and had such wonderful things to say every time I posted; to MyLady, for taking the time to translate this into Russian so it may reach a larger audience; to FiftyShadesOfKillua, I will miss torturing you with smiley faces; to MayuraLover and MostLovedGirl, you two have read almost everything's I've posted an consistently take the time to comment on each chapter, and I cannot thank you enough.
> 
> To anyone who ever commented on this piece, be it once, only on your favourite chapters, or on every chapter, thank you, from the bottom of my heart <3 You can't know how much that kept me going when I felt like maybe no one really cared about this story, or that it simply wasn't as good as I thought it was.
> 
> To anyone who came to find me on tumblr to tell me directly how they felt about this story (whether those were compliments or well-deserved threats of violence, which in this case are kind of the same thing) I appreciate the hell out of you.
> 
> If this is where it ends for you, you who are reading this right now, thank you so much for taking the time. I really, sincerely hope you enjoyed the hell out of it :) 
> 
> If you decide to read the sequel (and this AN's will be updated when that's been started), I can't wait to continue this story with you <3
> 
> Thank you, once more, to anyone and everyone who's read, and hopefully loved, Echoes of You. Until the next story,
> 
> Kitti

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [a remnant trace](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28516221) by [theriveroflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theriveroflight/pseuds/theriveroflight)




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